


Only When I Hit the Ground...

by jatty



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Abuse, Bullying, High School, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:49:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatty/pseuds/jatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After switching schools to avoid a sadistic ex-boyfriend, Gerard is introduced to Frank who he thinks is a normal, albeit an oddly nervous, guy. Frank was forced to transfer after getting caught enjoying his favorite pastime—spying on boys in the locker room. If only Gerard knew that he was Frank’s new favorite model.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Florence and the Machine's wonderful song "Falling" which sort of inspired me when I was writing this story.

Gerard exhaled shakily through lightly tinted lips and tried to smile at his reflection in his boyfriend’s bathroom mirror. He’d lined his eyes—but just a little—put on some concealer and just a little, _little_ bit of lipgloss because he wanted to look good but not so much like a girl that it turned his boyfriend off.

There was a party going on downstairs, music thumping loudly, people singing, cheering, hollering, talking, and dancing—sipping beer, wines, and vodka mixed with grape Kool-Aid from bottles, cans, and Styrofoam cups. His boyfriend had asked him to come upstairs for a little bit—said the noise would drown their conversation out so no one would hear…but he didn’t really mean their “conversation.” Gerard knew what he’d meant.

Alex wanted to go all of the way tonight. Gerard had never gone all of the way before, so he was scared, but kind of excited. He wanted to try this—he loved Alex. He’d give him _anything._ And if no one heard, then no one would have to know but the two of them and his dad wouldn’t find out.

There was a knock on the door and Gerard’s smile faltered. Oh, who was he kidding—he was terrified.

“You okay, Gee? You’ve been in there a long time…” Gerard tried to speak, but it came out as a choked little laugh. “It’s okay if you’re scared. We’ll go slow. It’s not gonna hurt—I’ll make sure you don’t feel a thing.”

“I-I’m okay,” Gerard finally managed. “Just…just getting ready.” He laughed again and then, after one last look in the mirror, he hurried over to the door and opened it, offering Alex a shy smile. 

“Hey, Baby,” Alex said, smiling at him affectionately. “You look pretty.” He wrapped his arms around Gerard’s waist and pulled him close, leaning down for a kiss. Kissing Gerard could do—he knew how to kiss.

Alex taught him everything.

“Aw, Honey, you’re shaking…can you go through with this?” Alex asked, looking down at Gerard with what looked suspiciously like disappointment. It made Gerard nervous.

“N-No—I mean…Yes—yes I can go through with it—I’m just a little nervous. I don’t know what to do…” Alex ran a gentle hand through his hair and smiled at him. Somehow, Gerard wasn’t reassured. 

“Why don’t we take some time tonight, okay? You go wait in my room and I’ll get you a drink and something for us to eat and we can talk for a while, ‘kay?” He stroked Gerard’s cheek a couple of times in a soothing way and Gerard gave in.

“Okay,” he mumbled, moving towards the bedroom with Alex’s arm slung around his waist.

“Don’t be scared, Baby. I love you. I’ll take care of you.” He sat Gerard down on his bed and kissed his cheek gently. Gerard sighed, feeling the butterflies beat their wings against his stomach.

“I just don’t want to do it wrong and…and have you not like it.” Gerard cuddled against his boyfriend even though he was trying to pull away.

“As long as it’s you it won’t be wrong…It’s your first time. You’re learning.” Gerard sighed and let his boyfriend step back from the bed. “I’ll go get you some drink and a snack, then I’ll be right back. Okay?” Gerard nodded. “Don’t cheat on me if I leave you up here.” Gerard giggled at the absurd idea and smiled for the few moments it took for Alex to slide out of sight.

Then the nerves came back. 

What if he messed up and Alex left him? He wouldn’t be any better at sex, he’d have been used up, and he would have given himself away for nothing…it would be an accident, though, if he ruined it. But maybe Alex wouldn’t see it that way if he made him stop once they’d begun.

He was already about to cry when his boyfriend finally came back upstairs with a Styrofoam cup and a plate of crackers.

“Here, Baby, take a drink. You’ll feel better.”

“I don’t…want to be _drunk_ when I do it,” Gerard said nervously, taking the cup, afraid to offend Alex by refusing.

“You won’t be _drunk._ I don’t want to sleep with someone who’s puking on me.” He laughed when he said it, but Gerard didn’t feel any better. It wasn’t that he was against drinking—it was fine in his mind as long as you didn’t make your drunkenness someone else’s problem—but tonight his instincts told him it was a bad idea.

“I’m scared…” Alex met his gaze and shook his head reassuringly.

“Don’t be…Baby, you’ll be okay. Nothing’s gonna happen. You’re safe. We’ll use protection and everything. I bought stuff—you’ll be alright.”

“What if…what if I start to bleed?” Gerard asked, trying not to let his voice break or tremble. It was too late, though. He was shaking so badly that he took a nervous sip of his drink to try to hide it.

“You bleed, I stop. You tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” Gerard glanced at him and sipped more of his drink. “Drink, Babe…it’ll calm you down. Just a little buzz so you don’t have a panic attack on me.” Gerard nodded. Yeah…it sounded like good advice. Before he knew it, the cup was empty.

Before he knew it—he hadn’t moved and something was already feeling wrong. He was groggy…everything seemed dimmer…he couldn’t keep his eyes open to even look up at Alex’s face.

“Alex,” Gerard moaned, lowering the cup and hardly feeling it when it fell out of his hand. “I don’t feel right…Alex, I don’t feel right,” he repeated when he got no answer. 

He knew he shouldn’t have drank it…he knew.

“Alex,” he called again. “Alex?” He began to shiver and suddenly felt himself being compelled to lay back on the bed. Something was over him…a blanket he hoped—Alex thinking he was just tired and needed rest…

But he felt more like he needed a doctor—it was quiet and dark and cold. It was what he imagined death to feel like, but his throat wouldn’t form a word against the sleep that hit him.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard woke up in pain and almost started crying instantly it was so bad. His head hurt—his stomach hurt, he felt nauseous, he hurt in places he was afraid to check—places he shouldn’t…places he had no reason to…

He began shivering and looked around without sitting up. He was in Alex’s room. It was morning. The sunlight was coming in, it was quiet…but all he remembered was a party and noise…and sitting in bed with Alex.

“Alex?” He cried out quietly, his voice cracked. He got no answer. “Alex?” He said a little louder, tears breaking and falling from his eyes. Everything hurt. Every muscle…every organ. “Alex!” He screamed unintentionally when he started to sit up and pain tore through his lower half so viciously he felt as if he were being ripped open.

He heard a loud groan beside him and turned his head to see his boyfriend lying behind him asleep. He stared at him nervously, afraid to believe that Alex had done this to him—that Alex had caused him this pain. That Alex had somehow…raped him?

Was it rape? He didn’t remember it happening, but the pain in his body told him it had. But he and Alex had been together a year. Alex didn’t do that kind of thing…

“Alex?” Gerard asked in a shaking voice, slowly turning onto his other side so he could paw the other boy’s shoulder. Maybe someone had gotten to him in his sleep…maybe Alex had been drunk and slept through it…

Alex wouldn’t do this to him. Alex wouldn’t hurt him.

“Mmm…what? What, Babe?” Alex said sleepily as he pulled awake. “God…hangover. How ya feelin’, Babe? Big night last night, Beautiful.”

“Alex, something happened last night,” Gerard whimpered, scared by Alex’s too-casual tone. 

“Yeah, Baby. You were perfect last night,” Alex said, looking up at him from where he lay on the bed, smiling in an almost condescending way.

“I don’t remember last night,” Gerard cried, wiping tears off of his cheeks quickly. Alex saw them and still didn’t comment. “Alex, I don’t remember anything—and I hurt really bad.”

“Well…you didn’t bleed. And you didn’t say to stop. You just kinda laid there.” Alex sat up and Gerard recoiled from him.

“Was I unconscious?” He asked, feeling like he’d woken up in a nightmare. Where was his love? Where were the kisses and the affection and the concern he’d always known Alex for? This wasn’t _real._

“I dunno. It was dark. You made noise.”

“I don’t remember!” Gerard shouted. “I came up here and then I don’t remember! You raped me?” He squeaked, voice cracking again as he was overcome by disbelief. 

“You’re _my_ boyfriend, and you didn’t say _no_ so it wasn’t fuckin’ rape, cocktease. Damn.”

“Cocktease?” Gerard echoed, feeling broken somewhere, and scared. He was fourteen—he didn’t know how any of this worked, but all of this seemed so wrong…

“Yeah, _cocktease!_ You’re always running around, pressing against me, but if I ever try anything you run a-fuckin’-way…Don’t you dare say any different.” Gerard whimpered, looking at him with broken eyes. It was his fault? But all of those times he’d just been trying to be flirty…be what Alex wanted him to be. Alex had said he understood when he’d told him how scared he got when he thought about sex. 

“But…Alex, you hurt me,” Gerard cried out, as if he were begging. For sympathy maybe…a reason for this to have been so tragic. 

“Shut up,” Alex groaned, sitting up and causing Gerard to recoil from him. “You wanted it last night and you got what you were asking for.”

“Asking?” Gerard asked, wanting to get out of the bed and run, but scared to leave. He wanted Alex to have an excuse—he didn’t want them to have to be over, but now he was afraid of him, now he didn’t trust him…barely loved him.

“ _Asking!_ You think I was going to let you let me start and then make me stop again? I’ve spent a fucking year with you—I deserve it! I put up with you and your damned insecurities! The least you can do is give me the _one_ damned thing I ever asked for in return!”

“You said there was no rush,” Gerard whimpered, closing his eyes tightly and shaking his head. “You said it didn’t matter.”

“Yeah, because I didn’t expect you to hold off for-fuckin’-ever! Jesus Christ, Gerard—people date for three weeks and they start fucking! I have to wait a year before I can touch you—and I had to fucking knock you out first!”

“I was gonna go through with it!” Gerard argued, bursting into heavy tears.

“No you weren’t!” Alex snapped. “You were gonna let me stick it in and then beg me to stop—I _know_ you! I have to _force_ you to do everything! Hell, I had to force you to hold my damned hand!” Gerard sobbed brokenly because this was the truth. He probably would have backed out…he really had forced Alex to stoop so low…It was his fault, he had no right to be mad or hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard sniffed. “I’m sorry, Alex.” When his boyfriend threw an arm over him, Gerard fell against his chest. He couldn’t believe he’d driven Alex to this…he couldn’t believe that he’d let himself soil their love.

“Come on—give me a kiss. Let me know you mean it.” Alex tilted Gerard’s chin up, and after sobbing one last time Gerard made their lips meet in a soft kiss. He broke it quickly as another cry hit him, but Alex captured his mouth shortly after and made the kiss deeper.

Gerard whimpered in both dread and fear as Alex started climbing over him—their mouths still locked even though Gerard was starting to scream instead of kiss. Even if he had driven Alex to take him in his sleep, he hadn’t driven him to take him again right afterwards. He hurt—he was sore. He _really_ didn’t want to!

“Alex!” Gerard whimpered as his boyfriend immediately pushed between his legs. “No! You already—”

“Shut the fuck up! You _owe_ me! Once isn’t enough—I want you awake. I want you to _look at me_ —” As he said it, he grabbed Gerard by the chin and locked their eyes. “—and know who you belong to.” Gerard could only shiver and stammer his boyfriend’s name. He felt like he was in a nightmare. Where was their love? Had he really destroyed all of their love in one night? He was terrified. He’d dreamed of how their first time was going to be—but never had those fantasies, or even nightmares, ended like this.

“Alex—please,” Gerard whimpered, trying to scoot backwards on the bed to get out from under the other boy. “ _Please,_ I’m really sore—I can’t. I love you, but—” Gerard’s words were cut off when Alex wrapped his hands around his throat. His eyes widened and his limbs started to flail when he realized that he couldn’t get any air. 

Choking him…the boy he loved was choking him.

“Shut. Up. If you just shut _up_ , I won’t have to make it hurt.” But even though Gerard did go quiet, his boyfriend made sure it hurt—every last second of it.

( ) ( ) ( )

It took nearly three years for Gerard to start trusting other boys again. By that time, he hardly had anything to show for it. One new boyfriend—a relationship that lasted maybe two months and ended equally as horrible as his first.

Or maybe it was worse—he couldn’t tell as he hurried up the stairs of his house. His tears had stopped, but his face was still soaked from them and his throat was raw from sobbing and from his heavy breaths as he’d sprinted home. He got upstairs and didn’t give himself time to think before hastily knocking on the door of his parents’ bedroom and going inside before he got an answer. 

Both of his parents had stirred, but neither woke up. He had to choose between mother or father, but settled for whichever one laid on the side of the bed closest to the door. It was his dad.

He father groaned tiredly as Gerard prodded his shoulder urgently to wake him up. He whimpered shrilly when his father still didn’t wake up, but then backed a few steps away when his father finally sat up.

“What?” His father groaned. “ _What?_ ”

“Dad, I need…” Gerard shivered and took in a sharp breath. “Dad, I need to go to the hospital I think.”

“Why? What happened?—what did you do?”

“Nothing,” Gerard answered in a shaking voice. “But my arm. Dad I—Someone burnt my arm.”

“ _What?_ ” Gerard backed up another step. “Someone _burnt_ your arm?” Gerard stared at his dad in the darkness for a few seconds before nodding.

“It hurts.” His dad turned on his bedside light and swung his legs out of bed, reaching for Gerard’s arm. Gerard pulled away at first, and then gave in and extended his arm towards his dad as his mother pulled awake and started sitting up.

Gerard hissed as his father pushed back the sleeve of his sweatshirt on his left arm. He turned his head away and closed his eyes as soon as he caught a glimpse of the bright red flesh. He was starting to feel sick.

“What happened?” His mother asked, waking up when she saw the wound.

His father ran his thumb over the burnt skin as if to prove that it wasn’t just some sort of make-up. Gerard groaned and closed his eyes tightly.

“Who did this?” His dad asked, letting him pull his arm back after establishing that this was all real.

“Dad, later? Please? It hurts really bad. It hurts so bad…”

( ) ( ) ( )

Around the same time that Gerard was refusing to name the person who had lit his sleeve on fire as the second degree burns were treated, Frank Iero was crawling into bed, completely unaware (and yet highly conscious) of the violence that had taken place on the streets that night.

Everyone knew the streets were dangerous after dark—or even during the day in some places—but he didn’t know precisely what was happening. Who would be shot, who would be stabbed, who would be killed…who would be set on fire by his boyfriend.

The only specific things that Frank knew at that time was that he’d just gotten expelled from his high school, his mom was at her boyfriend’s house having sex, and that two people could easily fit into his tiny bed if the two of them laid on their sides.

He was lonely and it was getting easier and easier to admit it. His mom spent less and less time at home, but he didn’t dare ask her to stay with him on the weekends when he knew she was happier with her _finally_ decent boyfriend. She’d stay if he asked, but he really wanted to avoid the jealous child stereotype when divorced parents started seeing other people.

There was always the open invitation of him spending the weekends with them at that new man’s house, but Frank preferred his own, empty domicile. Even if he was lonely, at least the surroundings were familiar.

With a sad whimper, Frank pushed himself against the wall that his bed rested against—just to feel close to something. He was lonely, he wanted someone to sleep beside but the boys at his school weren’t like that. None of them. Not one…not even some strange, bi-curious boy to “experiment” with.

Frank wasn’t sure if he would be satisfied with a one-night stand, but anything had to be better than lying in bed alone every weekend with only his shame and filthy indulgences to keep him occupied.

He started at his new school next week, and he was as worried as his mother about whether or not he would keep up with the same habit that got him expelled from his last school. Frank wanted to quit—it wasn’t like he enjoyed being reduced to what he did—but whenever the loneliness became too much…

It was always the same. He wondered if he was, in some way, sick.

( ) ( ) ( )

Mikey picked at the collar of his uniform, looking at himself in the mirror with confusion and repulsion. He hated this. He’d liked his old school. It was hard to keep from thinking that it wasn’t fair. Gerard had gotten himself set on fire, so why didn’t _he_ just switch schools? Why did Mikey have to as well?

Private school, a ridiculously expensive tuition, an ugly uniform…stuffy people. He hated the very idea of it. It wasn’t who they were. He and his brother didn’t belong there. They were simple people. And if their parents thought that the bullying in the public school was bad, they were going to be surprised how much worse it got when those rich kids figured out that the Way brothers weren’t one of _their_ type.

As if having the same thoughts, Gerard appeared in Mikey’s room, creeping in between a small crack between the door and the frame.

“Mikey, do you think it’s too late to try to talk Mom and Dad out of it again?” Gerard asked in a hopeless voice. Mikey just straightened his tie and nodded his head. “I can’t do this,” Gerard said in a voice that was shaking horribly. “Mikey, it’s no different no matter where we go.” Mikey turned away from the mirror and tried to meet his brother’s nervous eyes. Gerard didn’t look anyone in the eye anymore…not since he’d been set on fire.

“Gerard, stay home today,” Mikey said bluntly. “Don’t even try to go when you’re feeling this bad. It’s like blood in a pool of sharks. Stay home. Mom and Dad will understand.” Gerard looked soothed, but still put up a fight.

“You can’t go alone. What if—”

“I’m never the one they go after. I’m boring; I don’t react.” Gerard nodded and quickly loosened his tie. 

“They won’t get mad?” Gerard asked, already knowing the answer.

“Maybe disappointed, but…no, not mad. Just call Dad at work and tell him.” Gerard stared at the floor and tapped at his left arm. The burns had mostly healed, but there were scars that nothing was curing except for make-up.

“I’m sorry that I made this happen,” Gerard whispered. “I didn’t know…when we got together that he would…” He exhaled shakily and wrapped his arms around himself. “That he would be so mean.”

“That wasn’t _meanness_ ,” Mikey grumbled, shoving his text books into his new shoulder bag and snapping it shut. “That was sadism. And it’s not your fault—I just wish you’d turned in the bastard.”

“I couldn’t,” Gerard groaned, more in distress than frustration. “I couldn’t, Mikey! He…he knows so many people and if I went against him—”

“I know,” Mikey interjected. “Just stay away from him from now on. And stay away from guys like him. I know you’re into that type—I don’t know what it is with you and _thugs_ —and I’m sure there will be a few at this school, but stay away from them this time.” 

“No one’s gonna want me,” Gerard mumbled. “Especially not now…with this _thing_ on my arm.” Mikey stayed quiet and messed with the strap of his bag. He had five minutes before he had to leave Gerard alone in the house to tear himself apart. “And I don’t think I want to date anymore. It doesn’t go anywhere and…bad is all I get out of it.”

“So don’t date. Take some time to build yourself up and set some _standards_ before you run off into the fuckin’ sunset with this person.”

“I don’t meet anyone else’s standards,” Gerard mumbled almost inaudibly.

“Well…maybe you’ll meet someone who feels the same. We can’t be the only fucked up kids enrolled in this high school.” Gerard stared at the floor. “Well…Fuck it. If you’re staying home, then I am too.”

“No!” Gerard called out, glancing at Mikey briefly and then back down at the ground. “You can’t! Dad _will_ get mad! I’ll go—I can’t hide in the house forever…I’ll go.”

“You don’t _have_ to,” Mikey said, sighing because he was exhausted. He was so tired of this…almost tired enough to say he was fed up with Gerard.

“I’ll go,” Gerard mumbled, tightening his tie and straightening it. “I’ll go, and…and try not to make a fool of myself.”

“Work on looking at people, okay?” Mikey said, feeling bad but acting for the best. If Gerard wanted to _survive_ he had to stop looking so weak. Even if he felt it. “You’re not going to make it if you don’t look people in the eye.” Gerard made a sad noise, but looked up from the floor, meeting Mikey’s gaze for a fraction of a second. 

“I’ll try to…talk to some people that you might approve of,” he said quietly, following Mikey as he readied to leave the house for school.

“And try not to get caught smoking in the bathroom?”

“That too,” Gerard mumbled. It was surprising; despite being burned, he wasn’t afraid of fire.


	2. Heart Stop

Frank had been forced to transfer from his Catholic high school to this non-denominational, private “academy” after getting caught doing exactly what he was doing now. 

He was supposed to be in study hall, but he’d snuck into the hall-supervisor’s desk during his second day at the “academy” and crossed his name off the roster. As far as the teacher was concerned, he’d picked up another class. As far as the principal’s office was concerned, there was no report of his absence so he was where he was supposed to be.

Frank Iero was certainly in study hall during fifth period, not hiding out in an empty locker in the boys’ locker room watching his fellow students and classmates change for gym. Gym wasn’t as exciting or exhilarating as Sports, (when it came to Sports, the boys took _everything_ off which was what Frank really wanted to see), but, hey, he’d settle for whatever he could get—even if that was just boxers, shorts, and the occasional brief.

He had to be a lot more careful this time. His last school only bought his weepy “but they shoved me in the locker, I couldn’t get out” speech once. The second time he was caught it was suspension…the third time expulsion and a real thrashing from his disappointed mother.

If only he could learn his lesson…or find an addiction that was more acceptable than voyeurism.

As it was, Frank breathed silently and stared between the angled slats of the lockers as the boys filtered in. His skin was tingling and his chest had gotten all tight—it was the rush that was making his heart pound and his blood run hot. The rush—seeing what was almost better than a porn film or any magazine, terrified of getting caught, excited and over-stimulated.

They came in, all loud and boisterous. They didn’t look in the direction of the row of abandoned lockers. They started stripping off their jackets, ties, and shirts before even unlocking their respective lockers, flexing their muscles at each other for no reason except—it felt—for Frank’s entertainment.

Then, just as the show was ending and the boys were shuffling out, a boy which Frank had never laid eyes on before appeared. He shuffled in, keeping his arms wrapped around himself as if afraid of merely bumping arms with a fellow student and classmate, and then seemed to wait until after everyone—or what he _believed_ to be everyone—had left before finally opening his locker and slowly pulling off his jacket. Frank watched his shaky movements with interest. 

As he loosened his tie just enough so it would fit over his head to save himself the trouble of retying it, Frank began to feel that this boy was afraid. Afraid, perhaps of his fellow classmates and peers. He hung his jacket on the hanger supplied in his locker and then slowly unbuttoned his shirt with trembling fingers and a quivering sigh.

For some reason, the boy’s awkward movements and self-conscious shuffling attracted Frank’s attention when he was typically turned off by that pity-me, I’m a Pathetic Emo-Poser persona. Maybe it was because this boy wasn’t a Pity-Me Poser. 

As he stripped off his shirt, Frank’s eyes traced the curve of his spine and absorbed all of the dark bruises littering the skin—dipping, even, beneath the grey waistband of his uniform pants. 

Maybe he wasn’t even some kind of Pathetic Emo…maybe he was some kind of timid, abused, unplanned-pregnancy reject. Whatever the case—abusive parents, bad bullying episode, cruel older brother even—someone had beat the shit out of the pretty, pudgy boy.

Next, he undid his belt, finally hurrying up as he realized the clock was ticking and the harassment from his fellow students and classmates would be worse if he was late, and then gave Frank what he wanted—stepped out of his shoes and then slid down his pants.

Frank chewed his lower lip anxiously and let his eyes absorb the rest of the boy’s body—except, of course, those parts which were hidden by a pair of black boxers. The bruises ended at his waist, but there was a more than curious scratch on the back of his left thigh.

And, all too quickly, the boy was changed into a white t-shirt, black sweatpants, school-standard sneakers, and gone from the room—long hair swishing out of view just as the bell rang. 

After waiting a few moments, Frank undid the latch of the locker and stepped out slowly, stretching his limbs and making sure not to lose his footing and fall. He looked around quickly while straightening his tie.

He wasn’t sure who that boy was, but he was sure that he had a new favorite—and it wasn’t his typical dark-skinned, toned-muscled hunk with the personality he despised. 

Instead of spending the thirty minutes in the locker waiting for the boys to come back to change, Frank crept outside of the gym, peeking in through a gap between the wooden doors. The hallway only led two places—to the locker rooms and a janitor’s closet—so no teachers passed by to tell him to leave.

He watched the teacher prep the class of boys and girls to play basketball, but kept his eyes on the mystery boy who had intrigued him so much. The boy definitely had a strategy for the game that kept him the favor of the other students…staying out of the way. 

No one passed to him, so he didn’t have to worry about passing the ball and failing at a throw. The ball never came into his hands so he never had to attempt to shoot a basket. If anything, he followed his team from one side of the court to the other. To the teacher, he looked as if he were participating, but it was obvious to the trained eye of the fellow students and classmates—including a fellow social-outcast—that he was merely keeping himself out from underfoot.

Out of sight, out of mind. It certainly kept him from being knocked over or “accidentally” elbowed in the face.

Not once during the twenty minutes that Frank spent watching, did the boy with no known name drop his awkward, timid antics.

Frank got back into the locker without being seen or heard and waited nearly ten minutes for the boy’s to file back in. Typically, this little show was his favorite as everyone’s body was glowing from the sweat, giving them that sexed-up look that gave Frank something to fantasize about in the night, but today he was ignoring most of it.

What he saw was mainly out of his peripherals as he was watching the door for when the boy would shuffle in. Of course, he was last and didn’t even take off his shirt until most of the boys had gone. 

Frank no less than ogled him as he sprayed body-spray over himself even though his skin wasn’t even damp, and pulled on his uniform shirt quickly. Just as he buttoned the last button, the last of the other boys left. He moved faster after that, changing out of his sneakers and sweatpants, giving Frank most of what he wanted to see. 

Oh, how he wished this interesting boy was in some sport so that he could get a _real_ show. What would those extra inches of skin reveal? How big was he…or how small?

What other scratches and bruises would he have? 

As soon as that thought washed over Frank’s perverted mind, he was consumed with a feeling of guilt. This boy might be in need of help, not his lust.

And then he was gone and Frank was shaking away all thoughts clambering out of the locker before the next group of boys would start shuffling in. As much as he’d enjoy another show, he liked lunch more. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank sat down next to Ray at the table and flashed him a brief smile before asking how his classes had been for the day. He felt lucky to have made it into Ray’s good graces as quickly as he had. It would’ve sucked to have ended up in this school with a million boys to ogle and not a single one to call his friend.

“Hey, invited a couple guys to sit with us today—is that okay?” Ray asked after telling Frank for the millionth time that he hated his algebra teacher. 

“Yeah. That’s cool,” Frank said, his chest suddenly tightening. “Who are they? Do I know ‘em?”

“I don’t know, they just transferred here from the public school. A couple of brothers.” Frank chewed on his lip instead of the food on his tray. Was it possible that Ray had done some of Frank’s work for him? Drawing in the mystery-boy so that Frank didn’t have to go digging for information?

“Oh,” Frank mumbled. Ray looked at him cautiously, as if he mistook Frank’s surprise for dislike. Frank had mentioned once that he didn’t so much enjoy meeting new people. If only he could tell Ray that he was more than excited to meet the boy he’d been creeping on in the locker room.

“They’re in the line to get food. They may be a minute.”

“What’re their names?” Frank asked, scanning the line and spotting his new favorite subject standing somewhere in the middle.

“I only met one of them. The, uh, younger brother I think. His name’s Mikey—he didn’t tell me his brother’s, but he said that they’d sit together more likely than not.”

“They must get along,” Frank said as he watched his fellow classmate and peer move through the lunch line. Ray said something, but Frank didn’t hear him through his clogged and busy thoughts.

He was following someone—the boy with the black hair and bruises…Must be his brother—the kid with the glasses. So Mikey was the one with the glasses, meaning Frank’s favorite model was older.

Frank tried not to let himself look like he was staring or on the verge of cardiac arrest when the two boys came over and took seats at the table. As it was, Frank’s little obsession sat close to him, but only so that he was sitting directly across from his brother.

He looked at Frank analytically—not with nervousness or anxiety or any of the emotions that he’d been possessing in the locker room. Frank had to keep himself from giving the boy the same look back. (He looked different up close.)

“Hey, Ray,” the brother Mikey said as he took his seat. 

“Hey!” Ray replied, all good-natured and polite. “This is my friend Frank.” Mikey nodded in Frank’s direction, but didn’t even let their eyes meet.

“’s my brother. He’s old enough to introduce himself.” Frank refocused on the nameless brother who passed Mikey an unreadable look. Shy?

“Gerard,” the boy said.

“How’s it going?” Frank said in greeting, trying not to stare or sound breathless. He _never_ got this close to the boys he spied on except for in the formal classroom setting. Frank’s poor victim—Gerard—looked at him curiously and then shrugged.

“It’s expensive here. You’d think the food would be better.” Frank laughed, trying not to let it show how much of the boy’s voice he was trying to drink in.

“It’s better than my old school.”

“Where was that?” Mikey asked, eating without complaint.

“Catholic school,” Ray said, as if telling the punch line of a joke. Gerard laughed.

“You do not look like a Catholic schoolboy,” he said, looking Frank in the eye and somehow not seeing his secrets pouring out of the panes. Frank _never_ got this close to his models…it was nerve-wracking. “I bet they kicked you out.” It was exhilarating. 

“I actually did get expelled,” Frank said, forcing humor into his voice even though he was getting more and more nervous by the second. It didn’t seem normal, though, to become this anxious. He actually felt like he might begin shaking—as if he were in the locker and someone was drawing near, about to catch him.

“You still haven’t told me why,” Ray said.

“It’s obvious by the way he looks that he doesn’t belong there,” Mikey said with a numb-sounding voice. “I can see that tattoo on your neck. They’re against school code—aren’t you supposed to cover them with make-up?”

“Fuck that,” Frank said. “I paid a lot for that tattoo. I’m not covering it up. No one’s said a thing to me yet so…”

“So why did you get expelled?” Gerard asked, making Frank’s chest tighten even more.

“I think it was a sort of misconduct or something,” Frank answered—refusing to make something up and certainly not telling the truth about it. “Why’d you transfer?”

“None of your business,” Mikey answered gruffly. Frank wanted to pretend that he was saying that merely due to Frank’s own secrecy, but his tone was aggressive. “But we, at least, weren’t thrown out.”

“Mikey, don’t be mean,” Gerard said in a bizarre tone. It was obvious he was trying to be sociable but not really sure how. He apparently wasn’t used to being…talked to.

“It’s none of his business. Drop it.” And Mikey was the _younger_ brother? Gerard seemed to sink into himself a little.

“So…what are your best subjects?” Ray asked, making new-student small-talk.

“Everything,” Mikey answered. “I don’t really care for anything though.”

“Nothing,” Gerard answered glumly. “I can do math, I can write…I don’t really feel the need to try that hard at things that won’t matter in my life. I plan to go to art school, anyway. I don’t need physics for that.”

“Or Chemistry,” Ray suggested. Gerard hummed. “We have Chem together after this,” Ray said to Frank. Frank had to work hard to conceal his horror.

It just wasn’t safe to keep spying on a boy that he not only ate lunch with as a friend but also one who would possibly be a “study partner” later for chemistry…but how could he be expected to give up his most favored pastime? He didn’t have another free period during the day…but he really didn’t want to stalk someone that was so close to being his friend.

He had some honor… Some level of decency.

Frank decided that if their friendship didn’t develop within the next few weeks, he could continue spying from the lockers…However, if they grew to be friends—if Gerard became a friend Frank didn’t want to lose…

Well, it was probably time to grow up and leave his little habit behind anyway.

( ) ( ) ( )

He wished Chemistry class had been a lab day, just so he could work with one of his two new friends, but it was only a pre-lab lecture. As it was, Gerard got to sit beside Frank and Ray because the teacher didn’t have assigned seats.

He liked that.

For the moment, he was glad that he’d decided to come to school. He thought he might actually have friends—his own friends—for the first time since grade school. 

Ray was friendly, and not that superficial “I’m nice to everybody” friendly, actually kind. They liked the same sort of music and everything! 

And Frank… Gerard didn’t want to really think about it. There was something about Frank—aside from the fact that his looks got Gerard’s attention more than anything—that made him curious. It was like Frank was shy, but willing to pretend that he wasn’t.

Maybe like he was keeping something back. He looked a little bit nervous during lunch.

In Chem, though, he was a bit better. (Not that they could really talk…) Frank would keep looking at him and rolling his eyes whenever the teacher would say something corny, and even pretended to shoot himself in the head with a finger-gun when the ridiculous chemistry puns got to be too much.

He was so…cute. 

Ray was so cool, and Frank was so cute. 

Gerard swallowed hard and tried not to think about it. 

Frank was cute, and Ray was cool…He wasn’t going to mess up this possible new friendship by trying to be as cool as Ray or trying to appear cute for Frank.

“What class do you have next?” Frank whispered when Chemistry was almost over. Gerard tried not to melt into the sound of his voice. It was too soon to feel like this—it was too soon to get attached and to fall. 

It was way too soon to sign up to get hurt again.

“Um…Composition,” Gerard mumbled back, staring at his desk. His heart started pounding and he just couldn’t understand it. Why was this happening? He didn’t want to feel this way. He didn’t want to get weird around Frank—he’d only known him for a few hours.

“What teacher?”

“Um…I don’t really know,” Gerard whispered back. Frank hummed and then sighed. He was staring at the front of the room, but Gerard wouldn’t let Frank catch him looking. Every time he’d sense that Frank was about to glance in his direction, he’d make sure to turn his eyes the other way.

He couldn’t let Frank look him in the eye. He might see something he shouldn’t. He might see the scars somehow.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank had this sinking feeling in his stomach as he walked home from school. Gerard kept looking at him during Chemistry. He didn’t know why, but it felt like that meant something. Especially since Gerard wouldn’t let him catch his gaze. He seemed to not like looking people in the eye.

That was alright. He didn’t want Gerard to look in his eyes and somehow see his secrets. Somehow discover his little habit.

As it was, Gerard was going to be sitting with them at lunch again tomorrow—with his little brother. And, as it was, Frank was going to go to his usual hiding place the class period before and watch him change clothes.

He wondered if Gerard liked him.

It seemed like a really long stretch—they’d only just met—but Gerard kept staring at him during Chemistry. 

But who was to say the boy with the long hair and poor social skills was gay? Maybe he was just intrigued, or trying to find another tattoo somewhere.

But it had been so long since Frank had actually had a boy to keep him company. If he needed someone just for the night he knew where to go—knew who threw the best parties—but he was tired of that. He wanted someone long-term for a change. Someone he could cuddle up with every weekend when his mother was out and his house was empty. Someone to love and build up.

Gerard was cute, and scared, and wounded…Frank felt like he could bear to be around him for more than a night.

But he didn’t want to spit hearts and rainbows in the face of a possibly straight guy he’d just met. That would be awkward…

So, Frank decided, through intense investigation and a little bit of espionage, he was going to discover whether or not Gerard Way was a fag. And, if he found out that he was, he might make a move—depending on whether or not he actually liked the other boy. Frank felt it couldn’t hurt to know him a little better and, hell, over the next few days Gerard could open up and prove himself to be a real freak.


	3. Books and Broken Hearts

Gerard felt like he was creeping into the school, even though he and Mikey had arrived on time and there was a mass of other students swirling around them. He just kept looking to see if Frank was nearby, but hoping—almost—not to see him. 

He didn’t want to see Frank. He _liked_ Frank…it wasn’t safe to be near him.

So, Gerard kept his head ducked and slid between people as if he were hiding something dangerous under his coat even though he only had books and a broken heart beneath his crossed arms.

He made it to homeroom and then to his first class without catching sight of Frank and only having to wave in response to a greeting shot across the hall to him by Ray. So far, so good.

On his way to fourth period, however, he did see Frank and had to work hard not to run away and hide. Frank waved almost cheerily and started to walk toward him from the adjacent hall. Gerard felt trapped, but he tried not to let it—or his underlying awkwardness—show as he stopped walking to allow Frank to catch up.

“Hey—what class are you going to?” Frank asked—pleasant, ‘you’re a new student’ talk.

“Um…World history,” Gerard mumbled back, starting to walk again. “You?”

“Comp’. Werther—most horrible teacher ever. Who do you have for Comp’?” It was the same question he’d asked the previous day in Chemistry. 

“Daniels…I think…” Gerard answered, glancing at Frank’s face and then down at the floor just as Frank tried to meet his gaze. He really didn’t want Frank to see him.

“I hear she’s not so bad.” Gerard only nodded. “My class is actually _that_ way,” Frank said suddenly, stopping in the hallway so abruptly that Gerard felt compelled to stop, too. “So…I’ll see you at lunch?” He laughed when he said ‘I’ll see you’ as if he were lying…or knew something that Gerard didn’t.

Or maybe Gerard was just paranoid and was reading too deeply into the practical stranger’s tone of voice.

“Yeah…see you,” Gerard said, ducking his head and hurrying away towards his classroom. He felt really stupid. He felt really, really dumb for acting so shy and awkward. It was just…it was _safer_ to be quiet, to go unnoticed. 

To _not_ have friends. To avoid others so as to not be let down or hurt. To keep his mouth shut, his head down, and his heart closed off…

But, yeah…try as he might, it was impossible for him to stay that way. Soon enough, loneliness would overcome his defenses and he’d open up. He’d let Frank in, and he’d let Ray in, and they’d all see what he was—and at first, that would be okay and everything would go well…then, all at once, it would all turn to hell. 

They’d see him, and they’d realize that he was wasting their time…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard looked sad as he no less than crept into the boys’ locker room for gym. Frank could see the defeated look in his eyes, even from the distance of the back row of lockers.

He assumed that something must have gone wrong in one of his classes that warranted that wounded, betrayed face, but Frank didn’t dwell on it much when they boys starting taking off their shirts.

None of them seemed to pay Gerard any mind, so he must’ve conducted himself well the previous day, and during his first round of classes today. He was doing a fair job of keeping himself under the radar despite his unconventional, not-jock looks.

Frank just hoped he knew that it wouldn’t last. They’d pick up on him and start fucking with him before the week was out… They had with Frank, they just never got very far.

Whatever they could dish out, he would serve right back. He wasn’t pathetic.

He wasn’t like Gerard…Gerard looked very, very pathetic.

Trying to hide as he stripped off his shirt—almost like he knew someone was watching him. The other boys weren’t even looking at him, but Gerard still acted like he was the center of attention.

If he didn’t look so damned _pathetic_ , Frank would assume he was more than a bit narcissistic. 

Frank looked away from Gerard’s bruised up and pasty body to look at the more toned and tanned boys as they took off their uniform pants and stepped into their sweatpants. Compared to Gerard, they all looked so healthy and vivacious. 

They didn’t look like they’d crumble under another boy’s touch—although not a single one would allow a boy to touch him in any seductive way.

And then Frank’s breath caught in his throat and his eye grew twice as big. They were starting to play—one boy bumping into another, making his friend shout out an anti-gay slogan and shove him back. Shirtless boy versus shirtless _and_ pant-less boy.

The boy shoved him back so that he bumped into another boy who had just pulled on his shirt who didn’t really care to play, but did anyway—pushing the shirtless boy back toward his pant-less friend. Then three boys became four and it was an on-going battle of who could push who the hardest—all of them laughing and pulling on different pieces of clothing as they did.

The only one who wasn’t involved was Gerard—who Frank had entirely missed changing into his sweatpants and who was now putting on his shoes. But that didn’t last long. 

One boy fell, fell backwards straight onto Gerard who then fell with him to the ground—the other boy’s elbow going straight into Gerard’s gut and making him both groan and squeak in pain. It was the sort of not-so-straight, not-so-gay noise of surprise that warranted him a place in the boys’ memories. 

He didn’t laugh along with them, he didn’t shake his head and laugh at them, he just avoided them and then squeaked when he was forced to get involved. He wasn’t _one_ of them…and now they all knew it.

“Whoops, sorry dude,” the boy who fell on Gerard said as he stood up and offered Gerard a hand. Gerard didn’t take it—was probably smart not to have taken it—but received a dissatisfied huff from the boy whose ‘compassion’ he’d rejected.

“Tell him to fuck off…” Frank whispered under his breath, thinking of the only way to save Gerard now. If they thought he was acting different because he figured himself better than everyone—because his ego was so massive that theirs couldn’t rival it—he wasn’t as good of a victim as a pathetic, socially awkward wimp.

As it was, Gerard didn’t take the barely-spoken advice and remained quiet as he got back onto his feet, closed and locked his locker, and left the room.

“Freak,” the one boy hissed, making a few of the others snort in response.

Suddenly, Frank didn’t want to give them the compliment of watching them anymore and he closed his eyes.

In one simple gesture—refusing a ‘helping’ hand that would probably have just pushed him back over anyway—Gerard Way had signed himself up for hell.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank got to lunch after Gerard because he was late sneaking back out of the locker. He had to calm himself down before going to see Gerard and sitting across the table from him. 

He’d been right in his assumption that Gerard was going to be the new victim because he refused to join in on the horseplay and refused the falsely-helping hand. Almost instantly after getting into the locker room after a horribly-played basketball game, Gerard ended up on the floor after having a jock’s knee slam into his crotch.

He sank to his knees with a pitiful speak that was closely followed by an aggravated groan.

“Fuckin’ idiot. _Catch_ the ball next time and I won’t have to crush yours!” The guys all laughed except for Frank who tried damned hard not to growl.

Frank held his tongue and bit back all noises as he watched Gerard stagger back onto his feet, feebly trying to keep from instinctively gripping and covering the offended area. Just watching him try to keep his hand _away_ from his groin made Frank’s mind instantly begin to imagine them going _toward_ it. 

And to think, Gerard would probably make similar noises to the ones he was making now in his pain—the little whimpers and groans. But they’d be louder, and with less angry undertones.

Frank wanted to touch him—Frank wanted to touch him _so bad…_

So bad he had to work really hard to keep from jerking off in the locker after all of the boys in the locker room had left, including Gerard who left last—after slamming his locker door shut and giving one final, loud whimper to express all of his pain and suffering.

Frank would never make him make a sound like that. A whimper that was nothing but pain… Would never make him look like _that._ All sad and hopeless. 

Gerard’s brother wouldn’t explain why they’d transferred schools. Frank bet more than anything, now, that it was due to bullying. And he bet Gerard was the one who got bullied, not his brother…not Mikey.

At lunch, Gerard said nothing about what had happened and it was almost impossible to tell that he was upset. He looked bored, if anything…tired at most.

“So…how was Comp?” Frank asked because no one else was talking when he sat down—last to get his food. 

As soon as he was asked, Gerard seemed to shrink into himself. His younger brother rolled his eyes.

“Why are you obsessed with my composition class?” Gerard asked in a strange, untrusting tone. He seemed to be asking ‘what do you know that I don’t?’ The answer to that being something Gerard didn’t want to hear.

Frank played off the tone and the inquiry by shrugging.

“Comp sucks. It’s boring. I’m teasing you. Chill.” Gerard looked at him nervously and began picking at his food. 

“It’s not so bad,” Gerard mumbled.

He certainly wasn’t Frank’s usual type…this insecure, awkward, unconventionally pretty boy, yet he was still attracted to him. Even when he behaved so disgustingly pathetically. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard felt like he was on the edge of death. 

Every time Frank spoke to him, _every_ time, his stomach started twisting and he made himself look away because he didn’t want Frank to catch him staring with fucking stupid, puppy-dog eyes.

He didn’t want to feel this towards another person again. Gerard really didn’t want that attachment. 

He knew he was lonely and that, although he was afraid of every man that came near him—short or tall, young or old—he wanted a boyfriend to make him feel wanted and safe and warm. Gerard wanted to date someone who wasn’t going to drug him or set him on fire…or whatever horrible thing could be waiting in the future. 

Maybe, he tried not to let his mind latch onto, maybe since Frank was younger than him and shorter than him…maybe Frank wouldn’t hurt him like Alex and like his last boyfriend had. Maybe, if somehow Frank was gay, and Frank was interested, and Frank was available…maybe they’d be together and be happy.

But Frank had been expelled from his old school. He had dyed black hair and tattoos. Frank mocked teachers and had pierced ears… Frank was exactly Gerard’s type—and that was bad. 

That was _so_ bad…

Because guys like Frank—guys with cool hair and tattoos and bad reputations—didn’t like guys like Gerard. They liked to _hurt_ guys like Gerard…badly. Liked to torture them and burn them and kill all of the little sparks of happiness in their souls. Liked to leave them quaking in fear…

Gerard caught Frank staring at him and stiffened. 

It was already starting. Frank noticed him… Frank wanted to hurt him. But why? Gerard hadn’t done anything! He hadn’t done _anything_ to get Frank’s attention. He’d tried really hard not to get it…

He was scared. Frank was smiling at him genuinely and friendlily—as if feeling his worry and terror—and Gerard was scared. He was so scared. He was _shaking._

He wanted…

He wanted Frank.

It was too fast. It was just too fast. 

“Gerard, what the hell is your problem?” Mikey said in an annoyed tone of voice. Somehow, even though it was a little insensitive, it brought Gerard out of his whirlpool of thoughts.

“What?” Gerard asked dumbly, as if he didn’t already know what Mikey was asking about. His shaking, the fact that he quit eating, that he won’t answer even though Frank keeps saying his name…

“Don’t ‘what’ me. Are you sick or something? Eat…you’ll whine later that you’re hungry if you don’t.”

“Sorry,” Gerard mumbled, staring down at his tray. “I just spaced out for a minute. I feel…really cold.”

“Maybe the food poisoned you,” Frank’s friend Ray said, good-naturedly.

“No, it’s—” Gerard tried to pass it off as nothing, but Frank cut him off.

“It probably did—I can take you to the nurse’s office.”

“No, it’s—”

“I really can,” Frank insisted. “I’m done eating so it wouldn’t bother me.”

“ _No_ ,” Gerard insisted. “It’s—”

“It’s just down the hall—but if you think standing up will make you feel worse we can wait a minute. I’ll stay with you—I don’t care if I’m late for class.”

Gerard started shaking worse because Frank caught his eyes and put him in a trance that made him hold the gaze. Frank was seeing him, and he didn’t like it. He had a feeling that Frank knew he wasn’t feeling sick because of food poisoning or anything like that. 

“He said he’s fine, back off,” Mikey snapped, breaking Gerard’s trance and finally stopping Frank’s slew of unwanted help.

“You don’t have to be so harsh, Mikey,” Gerard mumbled. “He’s just trying to help.”

“Do you _need_ help?” Mikey asked, glaring at Gerard in what looked to be an accusing way.

“No,” Gerard answered, not liking the feeling of having his little brother act as a father one bit. “But if I did, I would have appreciated the offer.” Gerard began to eat quickly, trying to distract from the awkward scene.

( ) ( ) ( )

“I can’t tell if I like that kid or not,” Ray said as he and Frank left the school and started their walk home. 

“Who? Mikey or Gerard?” Frank tried not to think about the horrible scene he’d caused at lunch. He should’ve listened when Gerard refused him the first time. He made himself look like an idiot…damn his sudden need to get the black-haired boy alone…

“Gerard,” Ray answered, his tone suggesting that Frank should’ve known that.

“Mikey’s the one I have a problem with,” Frank answered curtly. “He acts like he owns his brother—it’s weird.”

“He’s protective.”

“ _Weird._ ”

“Why is it weird? It looks to me like that guy needs someone to look out for him and save him from himself. He’s—”

“Pathetic?” Frank suggested, trying not to let his annoyance _completely_ overcome his voice.

“Well…well, yeah. If you _have_ to put it that way.” Ray sighed and walked in silence for a couple of minutes. “He kept looking at you weird.”

“No he didn’t,” Frank said quickly in Gerard’s defense. _Yes he did…_ “He was just looking at me.”

“Yeah,” Ray said in a tone rich with humor. “ _Looking_ at you.”

“So what?” Frank snapped. 

“What if he’s gay?”

“So _what_ if he’s gay?” Frank said, borderline aggressively. “I’m gay.”

“ _You’re_ gay?”

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?” Frank never really supported the notion of ‘being in the closet’ except for under certain circumstances. He also never supported the idea that you had to throw your sexuality in everyone’s face. If he was asked, he wouldn’t deny being gay, but if the topic was never brought up, he saw no point in addressing it.

“It makes sense then,” Ray said, his face breaking into a weird smile that Frank didn’t expect. He’d expected confusion or indifference—though they hadn’t known each other long, he still knew that Ray wouldn’t react negatively—not joy.

“What does?” Frank asked, turning his eyes away from Ray briefly, trying not to let discomfort settle in his stomach.

“You two like each other.” It almost sounded like Ray was teasing him.

“We don’t _know_ each other,” Frank argued. “And you don’t know that he’s gay—and I’m not going to go ask him out, because if he’s straight our whole friendship would just go out the window.”

“So find out if he’s gay,” Ray suggested. Frank wanted to roll his eyes. Straight best-friends were so stupid when it came to gay things…

“I will.”

“Take him to the party this weekend. See if he falls for the girls in the short shorts or the guys without shirts on.” Frank quirked his brow and paused. That wasn’t a bad idea. A party with no one around that Gerard would know…

That meant Gerard would have to stay by him, and that would be just fine.

“Fine. It should be fun.” Frank didn’t comment for the rest of the walk, letting Ray speak about pleasant nothingness until their paths split.

Gerard at a party…Gerard at a party…plenty of opportunities to bump into him or slide against him. And, if he really needed it, a great opportunity to get him drunk and take him upstairs to an unlocked bedroom. 

But he really doubted Gerard was as whorey as that.

( ) ( ) ( )

“So what are the girls like?” Gerard stiffened at the dinner table when his father asked the question.

“Bunch of snooty bitches,” Mikey answered in Gerard’s place. “This one in my math class keeps glaring at me from across the room.”

“Maybe that’s how she says she likes you,” their mother commented. Mikey shook his head, but didn’t speak. “What about you, Gerard? They don’t do the same to you, do they?”

“Um…” Gerard glanced at her and then at his plate. Mom and Dad didn’t know… “I don’t really look at them. Uh— _haven’t_ looked at them yet?” 

“Oh…” His mother pulled a sympathetic face and Gerard looked away from her again. 

“Come on,” his father said, his tone going for humor. “You have to—you’re a man, aren’t you?” His wife scowled at him briefly and shook her head.

“If you miss your ex from your old school, you didn’t have to break up with her. You two could’ve still visited each other on weekends,” his mother attempted, wholly believing Gerard’s lie that he broke up with his ‘girlfriend’ because he was transferring and wouldn’t get to see her. She didn’t know his _boyfriend_ had broken up with _him_ and finalized it by setting him on fire.

He shuddered violently at the memory and tried to keep from thinking about it anymore. 

“I don’t…really miss her. I just… We fought a lot,” he added when he realized he sounded mean to this non-existent girl. 

“Then she didn’t deserve you anyway—eat your food.” Gerard sighed, glad that the conversation was over, and glanced at Mikey. 

His brother was starting at him with indifference…Mikey’s way of saying ‘you need to tell them already and stop living a lie.’ He felt like Mikey’s unspoken advice was probably for the best, but he didn’t want to say it.

What if Dad reacted badly? What if Mom got upset? He didn’t want thrown out of the house…he didn’t want harassed by his own family about it. His mother would probably accept it, but he just wasn’t sure about his dad… Dad was all about ‘be a man’ and ‘give me grandkids.’ Gerard would be quite happy female…and he didn’t really think he was ever going to have children.

He really just didn’t want to let his family down any more than he already had by being born stupid, naïve, pathetic, and weak…

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank watched as Gerard pulled on his uniform and buttoned up his less-than-crisp white shirt. He hadn’t gotten bullied today—or at least not in the locker room or during gym class—but he was looking less than content. 

He seemed nervous…and Frank tried really hard to keep himself from imagining that Gerard knew he was here—hiding in the locker, watching his every move.

To be completely honest, Frank didn’t know why he was still spying on Gerard in the locker room. He never got to see anything except fading bruises and a bunch of pale, almost unattractive skin. Plus, whenever Gerard was around, he didn’t want to look at the other, hotter boys. 

Frank was getting nothing out of this except for a few extra minutes of seeing Gerard each day…and seeing if anyone was being mean to him—even though Frank couldn’t stop them if they were.

Maybe…maybe if Gerard went to the party tonight, he would find out if spying on Gerard was really worth it. If he realized he didn’t like him anymore, or that he wasn’t gay and couldn’t have him, then he could watch the sexy guys again without thinking of having anything more and gather material for later—rather than catching them only in his peripherals and having nothing to fantasize about on his lonely nights.

When Gerard left—always last to leave—Frank crawled out of the locker hastily and slid out of the locker room, making sure no one saw him as he crept away towards the cafeteria. 

He waited until the bell rang to make his appearance in the room and managed to be fourth in line to get food. By the time he sat down, Ray had made his appearance, and so had Mikey and then—Frank’s heart fluttered just at the sight of him—Gerard…

Frank hated it. He hated feeling this attachment to someone he didn’t know and quite possibly couldn’t have. If only Gerard were a girl…and Frank were straight. Then things would be easy. Then, if Frank asked Gerard out it wouldn’t be as awkward if he was refused. Guy asks a girl out—normal. Gay guy asks straight guy out—very awkward…humiliating.

“Hey, man,” Ray said as he took his seat. “How’s it going?”

“’s good. Still going to the party tonight?” 

“Of course. You still asking Gerard?”

“Yeah,” Frank said, trying not to blush or giggle or give any indication that he liked Gerard more than just a teeny-tiny bit. “Did you think about asking his brother?” Ray groaned.

“He’s not interested.” Frank couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. No overbearing little brother getting in the way, but Gerard’s chances of going seemed to be lower if _no one_ he knew was there. “But he said Gerard would probably go. Apparently he’s an avid partier.” Frank furrowed his brow in confusion and looked at Ray for some sign of deception.

Gerard didn’t _look_ like an avid partier…

Before long, both Gerard and Mikey had sat down. Mikey began a conversation with Ray—seeming more interested in him than Frank—and Gerard just stared at his tray and began eating. He didn’t even speak a word of greeting.

“Hey—er—Gerard?” Frank said after nearly five minutes of being excluded from Ray’s conversation and being ignored by his possible-crush.

The other boy didn’t look up when his name was spoken, he kind of sunk into himself instead.

“Ray and I were going to this party at our friend’s house tonight. You wanna go?” Gerard glanced up from his tray and looked at Frank nervously. “It would be fun,” Frank pressed. “And…and I’d look out for you so you don’t…get kidnapped or something.” He met Gerard’s eyes and saw nothing but fear. Gerard was staring at him as if he had just threatened to rape him…or smash his skull in.

“I…I don’t know,” Gerard answered, glancing at his brother who ignored him. “I don’t think I’d know anyone. It would be strange…” Frank felt his hopes drop a little. 

“Ray and I would be there,” Frank pressed, hoping to sway him. “We wouldn’t let anything bad happen, and there won’t be _that_ many people.” Gerard made a noise of discomfort and Frank felt his spirits sink even more.

“I don’t think so…”

“I’d make sure you got home okay,” Frank attempted. “We won’t leave without you. I won’t even let you out of my sight—I promise. Please?” Gerard bit his lower lip strangely, like he was possibly fighting a smile.

“Well…if we won’t be out all night I guess I could go.” Frank had to do everything in his power to keep from grinning like a maniac.


	4. The Floor

Gerard was shaking, and not because he was sneaking out—well, technically lying about where he was going, not really sneaking at all—or because the night was a little bit chilly. He was trembling as he stood on the doorstep of his house, waiting to see Ray’s car, because he was going to a party. 

And although he went to parties rather often with his last two boyfriends, and the boys he almost dated over the past couple of years, he was still afraid of all the people and noise. He was afraid to drink because he was afraid of getting drugged. He was afraid to dance with anyone because he didn’t want touched.

And he was terrified of what would happen if the boys he really liked figured out that they wouldn’t be able to touch him.

And he was really, really scared that Frank would find out he was gay and leave him there—all alone at a party where he didn’t know anyone. 

Gerard stiffened as a truck pulled into his driveway with a recognizable man behind the wheel and an even more recognizable—for Gerard at least—hanging out the passenger side window like a dog with its head out the window. 

“Hey, Gerard!” Frank cried, getting his upper half back into the truck so he could open the door and get out in order to greet Gerard who backed a step away from him. It was hard to just let someone advance on him so quickly…so _determinedly_. 

“H-Hi…Frank,” Gerard forced himself to mumble despite his thought processes turning to drivel and mush. He couldn’t believe he was getting flustered already…getting stupid and attached all-fucking-ready…

“You okay?” Frank asked, still smiling wide and looking so good in jeans and an oversized hoodie. So good that Gerard had to look away. “You still want to go?”

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled, staring at the grass. “I want to go.” Frank said something and started back towards the truck. Gerard followed him and climbed into the truck, trying not to let himself fold inward and disappear. 

He was trying equally hard not to tremble.

“You cold?” Ray asked, startling Gerard. “I can turn the heat on.”

“N-No,” Gerard mumbled. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Frank asked, leaning unnecessarily close to Gerard and making him shiver. Oh…why did he have to get so close? 

Get so close and then stay there for the rest of the ride. Ugh, Gerard could’ve died from the nerves and the repressed joy of having Frank—his new, far too soon, crush—so, so, so very close.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard was so thankful—so, so, so very thankful—that Frank kept his word and stayed at his side. He tried not to be an unattractive, clingy wimp, but something about the party atmosphere brought about bad feelings.

It wasn’t the first party Gerard had gone to since the whole mess with his first boyfriend, Alex, but something about it had him trembling on the inside. 

From the outside it looked typical and Gerard wasn’t scared—except of embarrassing himself in front of Frank and Ray. It was in a suburban area, but with enough space between houses—and between houses and the road—that there was a level of privacy to the place. (Lessening the chances of having the police arrive.)

Frank seemed to know the people who let him into the party, and even introduced Gerard to one of them who shook his hand and immediately thrust a cup of beer into it afterwards.

Inside was a swarm of people—guys and girls—all of them drinking and moving somewhat to the music that was blasting through the house. Ray disappeared pretty quickly—screaming over the music that he saw someone he wanted to talk to ‘real quick’—and hadn’t been seen since.

Frank led Gerard through the somewhat-dancing crowd to the packed house’s kitchen where plastic cups full of beer and water bottles full of already mixed drinks covered almost every square inch of tabletop and counter space.

“You okay?” Frank asked Gerard when he stood—probably—too close to him. Gerard backed a step away and nodded, not trying to talk over the music and noise. “Come on, let’s go mingle!” Frank laughed and then took Gerard by the hand—literally grabbed his _hand_ —and lead him into the living room where most people were talking and attempting to dance.

It wasn’t bad—Gerard’s heart already thumping with the music and pulsating as he remember holding Frank’s hand over and over even though the moment _had_ to be meaningless to Frank—but Gerard had a sinking feeling.

Maybe it was because, although Frank stayed at Gerard’s side, he knew so many people and Gerard knew two…and was terrified of the idea that someone he did know would appear. Someone who would immediately start chanting ‘fag’ and calling out reasons for Frank to disassociate himself with the man-whore Gerard.

But as the night bled on, it wasn’t so bad and Gerard began questioning his instincts. Began to question that sinking, doubting feeling in his stomach.

What could go wrong? Really? 

Frank was staying right by his side, and Ray was staying sober in order to drive them back home. And Frank was one of those people trying to dance to the music—even if he kept turning away all of the pretty girls that grinded their ways over to him.

If anything, his rhythm-less squirming of a dance (and his apparent disinterest in girls) had Gerard praying that the night never ended. Maybe, after a few more drinks, he would be bold enough to somehow…somehow subliminally ask if Frank was—was less interested in girls and more interested in…boys.

But he blushed at even the thought of asking as it was—he needed more beer, because he didn’t want to let the idea go. He wanted to know if he had a shot with Frank—and he really wanted that shot.

“You doin’ okay?” Frank asked after Gerard had finished his second plastic cup and was starting his third. Gerard just nodded. “You sure?” Frank practically screamed over the crowd.

“Yeah,” Gerard called back, nodding again and starting to blush. And then there was a tap on his shoulder. It startled him, but he managed not to make a total fool of himself when he flinched and turned around.

He managed to keep from gasping, and didn’t even splash his drink.

“Hey!” It was a girl—a really drunk one despite the mixed drink bottle in her hand being full, Gerard supposed, actually flirting with him. “I haven’t seen you before!” She had a shrill voice that rang out over the music which she swayed her hips, and her full drink bottle, to—swaying them closer, and closer, and closer to Gerard who couldn’t back away without backing into Frank.

All Gerard could do was stammer. A girl was flirting with him—a girl! Girls didn’t even know he existed—not that he was interested, but it was flattering none the less! 

But what did he say to her? What if she wanted to dance? He didn’t want to dance!—not with anyone but Frank because anyone else, he was quite sure, would just make fun of him!

While praying that the girl would lose interest and leave—and terrified that she might because she saw him as a freak and not just not-her-type—he finished his third beer and accidentally dropped the cup.

“Hey,” Frank said, grabbing Gerard’s shoulder and regaining his attention. “I’ll get you another beer—leave you to…chat or whatever.” Gerard stammered in instant terror—Frank couldn’t leave him! Gerard didn’t like this girl, he liked him! Frank couldn’t leave them to chat! What if she wanted to _dance!?_ He didn’t know how—and he didn’t know how to say no!!!

“No!—Take mine,” the girl said, thrusting her water bottle of who-knew-what mixed with god-knew-what in Gerard’s hand. “Danny just mixed it for me—but I’m not thirsty!” She laughed like she’d told a joke and Gerard took a sip from the uncapped bottle. He couldn’t help it. He drank when he was nervous, and she made him nervous.

He took the bottle—didn’t that mean he had to dance? Shit!

“Er—this is my friend Frank!” Gerard said, backing into Frank and then nudging his way behind him as if he were some kind of shield. 

Frank, looking confused, lifted his hand in a brief wave and said hey. The girl paid him little mind.

“Are you shy?—that’s so cute!” The girl squealed. “What’s _your_ name?” Frank groaned as the girl shoved her way around him to press against Gerard. 

Oh, God…she was moving her hips against him—she wanted to dance, and Gerard _really_ wanted _not_ to dance!

So he drank a little more in hopes that the bottom of the bottle might have the answer as to how to turn her down without exposing him as a coward and a fag and a really, _really_ bad dancer.

“What’s the matter, Gerard?” Frank asked, laughing somewhat. “You look scared—I’m gonna get myself another drink.” He walked away, maybe saying ‘have fun,’ but Gerard couldn’t hear over the girl trying to talk to him, and the music, and the…the rushing sound in his ears. 

Maybe he drank a little too much…a little too fast.

He didn’t feel so well. He didn’t want Frank to go and leave him with a girl. What if he didn’t come back? She’d want him to take her upstairs—maybe, if he didn’t make a fool of himself—and then he’d have to turn her down and it would make her feel bad… By that point, girls quit believing the ‘I’m gay’ story.

“Frank!” Gerard tried calling, squirming away from the girl who was grinding against his thigh. God damn modern dancing! “Frank!” Gerard called a second time when Frank continued walking towards the kitchen, probably not even hearing Gerard over the crowd-noise and music.

“Where are you going!” The girl called, more dazed and confused than upset. Gerard tried not to hear her as he staggered in Frank’s direction.

God…his legs felt heavy. He didn’t think he drank that much…

“Frank!” Finally, the other boy heard him and turned around. 

“What? I thought you were dancing with the girl. Not your type?” Gerard tried to speak, but suddenly felt really nauseous.

There was no _way_ he was that drunk! Not yet—he didn’t want to look like a light-weight in front of Frank.

“You okay?” Frank asked, putting a hand on Gerard’s shoulder when Gerard hunched into himself against the bout of nausea. “Gerard?”

“Frank,” Gerard moaned against the sickness and the room’s sudden spinning. “I don’t feel good.”

He really tried not to, but he started to gag—making the packs of people in the kitchen squirm away from him and clear a path for him to a trashcan that he made it to just in time.

However, once he bent over to retch, he found himself sinking farther down to the kitchen’s tile floor. 

His eyes widened against their desire to close.

No.

No, he knew this feeling—no! He wasn’t drunk and blacking out—he hadn’t even gotten to the reckless, funny, crazy drunk yet. He was just passing out. He was drugged. Again! And with Frank here—Frank who had no interest in girls…

No!

Not again! 

He tried to get back up despite his dizziness and heavy limbs, but even Frank’s helping hand wasn’t strong enough.

“No, he didn’t drink _that_ much!” he heard Frank shout at someone when his hand fell out of Frank’s sweaty palm. Gerard wanted to focus on the words, but the terror was eating him alive. 

How was he going to get out of here? Was Frank going to keep him safe or just leave him lying there with people passing judgment on him and labeling him as ‘the guy who passed out first’?

“You think he was _drugged?_ ” Some girl asked. Gerard moaned and tried to sit up again, blackness eating away at the edges of his vision. He didn’t want to pass out. He did _not_ want to pass out here…

He didn’t want this to happen again. Parties were supposed to be fun—not end with blackness and pain. He was scared.

The darkness was coming and he was scared. All he could do in preparation was roll onto his side and cover his head against the fading noise.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank was pissed.

_Pissed._

Fuckin’ pissed!

He couldn’t tell if Gerard was drugged or just drunk…but either way, he was now unconscious in Frank’s bed since he wasn’t about to leave him on the floor at the party…or in the back of Ray’s dad’s truck…or take him home wasted…

Despite Frank’s good intentions, his mom had still yelled at him and smacked him on the back of the head when he told her just _why_ his new friend was unconscious. 

He hadn’t expected her to be home…typically, she’d be with her boyfriend, but luck was _never_ on his side. The earth would stop spinning the fucking day he really needed it to turn. That was just Frank’s luck.

“If you try something on him, Frank, if you try any _thing_ you’re in for it!” Frank tried not to sulk as he sat on his floor and stared at the bed where his unconscious new friend laid. So because he liked to spy on people, he was _obviously_ a rapist, too…

Frank wasn’t even tempted by the idea of having Gerard completely at his disposal, unconscious and unable to protest. That wasn’t his thing. Sure, he _could_ make sure his mom wasn’t preparing to come to his room and ‘check in’ again and then, if there was no sign of her, steal a glimpse of what Gerard had hidden under his tight, black pants. 

He _could_ do that, but he wasn’t in the mood.

And, besides, what was the point of looking so close if he couldn’t even touch? And he wasn’t going to touch. 

The thought actually made him shudder—his morals at least somewhat intact.

If he got Gerard’s pants off in his bed, he was going to give what he found an affectionate stroke—and if Gerard wasn’t awake to react, there wasn’t a point.

Besides, spying didn’t hurt anyone. Raping someone definitely did… And Frank didn’t want to _hurt_ anyone. Especially not Gerard.

He wanted Gerard to like him, and though taking Gerard to a party where he probably got drugged wasn’t the best way to gain affection, proving that he could take care of the aftermath without taking advantage of the situation might turn his negative into a plus. 

Gerard would wake up in a warm bed in a safe house. He’d feel relieved when he realized where he was, and maybe even feel secure in Frank’s arms.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard knew something was wrong, even as he was just starting to wake up. It wasn’t just his pounding headache either, even though that consumed his attention. The bed was just…and something else was…something else was in bed with him.

And suddenly it came swirling back—the party, the party and then Alex said to go upstairs. Gerard began shaking, even before he opened his eyes. It was all too familiar. The pain in his head and his nausea.

Finally, Gerard forced his eyes open to face the aftermath. He shouldn’t have said he’d go upstairs when he knew he wasn’t ready. He shouldn’t have pushed Alex so far, make him behave so drastically. He—

He didn’t recognize this room.

This wasn’t some flashback about what happened with Alex. This was a different place. He didn’t know what it was, but it was real, and so was the pain in his skull and the weight bearing down on his legs.

Trying not to scream or screech or burst into tears, Gerard sat up, trying to regain his bearings and remember everything possible from the night before.

Aside from his headache, he wasn’t hurt, and he still had all of his clothes expect for his shoes. He didn’t know whose bed this was, but he assumed the owner was the person lying beside him…on him beneath the blanket. 

He remembered a party, he went with Frank and Ray…he drank and a girl danced on him.

Gerard gasped and sat up further, pulling his leg free of the weight overtop it, making the person beside him in the bed groan and writhe.

He took a deep breath and shifted the blanket so that more than just a swath of black hair showed on the pillow. 

He was so afraid it was going to be that girl. What would he do if he woke up in bed with a girl? _Something_ might have happened, and he’d been too fucking drunk to remember it. And Frank probably saw them and there’d be no hope to be together with Frank after that…

Carefully, Gerard pulled down the blanket that had his companion in the cramped bed hidden.

Frank… It was _Frank._

Had he just come back here to pass out?

“Put the fuckin’ blanket back,” Frank groaned into the pillow. “It’s too bright!” He half-screamed. Instantly, Gerard put the blanket back where it was, even though he was sure his hangover was more pressing than Frank’s.

“Sorry,” Gerard mumbled, not sure if he made noise or not. Frank hummed and shifted closer on the bed, making Gerard’s breath hitch and cheeks flush.

This was either the best day ever or the worst one ever…he just couldn’t decide which.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank had to suppress his giggle when he ‘sleepily’ snuggled up against Gerard in the bed, and had to fight to keep from cackling when he squirmed ‘in his sleep’ even closer. Gerard wasn’t pushing him away, and Gerard wasn’t trying to leave. He was lying still, sighing every now and then.

He really hoped they weren’t unhappy sighs. Frank was really, really hopeful that Gerard would appreciate being brought home and looked after. That Gerard would feel safe in Frank’s arms and maybe, maybe, _hopefully_ want to stay in them.

Feigning a drowsy moan, Frank gave in to temptation and slid his arms around Gerard’s torso, one going underneath Gerard’s back where it pressed to the mattress with more difficulty than a sleeping person should be able to take. 

“Frank?” Gerard stammered. He sounded so scared. Frank hummed in response to him. “Are you…still sleeping?” Frank moaned in fake drowsiness and shifted his head onto Gerard’s chest. “Frank?”

“Hm?” Frank finally opened his eyes and glanced up at Gerard’s face. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he might start crying. “What’s wrong?” Frank cuddled closer, not sure why he was behaving so boldly.

He knew that if he acted too hastily he was just going to chase Gerard off, but he was so afraid of losing the opportunity to hold Gerard while he could that he couldn’t keep from touching him. It was so risky, but he needed someone to hold—he needed a person to love so much. He was really afraid of missing the only chance he’d had in a year.

“Frank, what happened last night?” Gerard asked, starting to tremble. “I remember there was a girl and then…nothing.” Frank watched as Gerard scanned their tangled bodies. “Why are…”

Frank gave up and let go of him, pulling his limbs away from Gerard and seeing the relief flood the other’s face. It made him feel really bad.

Gerard didn’t want him. That was what that look said. Gerard wasn’t interested. He didn’t fit Gerard’s standards. He wasn’t good enough. 

That hurt.

“Yeah,” Frank mumbled as he slowly sat up. “We think that someone spiked that girl’s drink, because she gave it to you and you blacked out. And you’d only had like…three beers, so...”

“Drugged?” Gerard said the word with fear.

“We think, yeah,” Frank repeated, glancing at the wall and then back to Gerard’s worried eyes. “So…congratulations, you kept a girl from getting date raped?” Gerard stared at him…like he thought _Frank_ drugged him or something.

_That’s what you fucking get for cuddling with him like that._ Frank thought to himself harshly.

“So I blacked out at the party?” Gerard asked. Frank nodded. “What happened after that?”

“Ray and I brought you here. I didn’t know how your parents would react to me bringing you home unconscious and I knew my mom wouldn’t care. Are you okay?” Gerard didn’t react. “I stayed up for a long time to make sure you didn’t…die or anything,” Frank added when Gerard just sat in silence.

“So…I blacked out at the party?” Frank nodded.

“Yeah.”

“And everyone saw?” Frank shrugged his shoulders. Gerard looked embarrassed.

“They noticed, yeah, but no one really paid attention. They were all pretty drunk. I doubt they remember it, and if they do they won’t know it was you. Ray and I aren’t going to go talking about it.” Gerard looked a little relieved, but not much.

“Thanks for not taking me home,” Gerard mumbled. “Dad would’ve…my dad wouldn’t have been happy with me.”

“Ray called Mikey and told him what happened—he said he’d tweak your story for you.” Gerard’s relief visibly multiplied. “What time do you want to go home? I have food we can eat for lunch if you…want to stay and hang out.”

“Okay,” Gerard mumbled, sliding back further on the bed. Frank sighed.

“Sorry about…everything,” Frank said, getting up quickly and going over to his closet, just to get Gerard out of his sight for a minute. To think, he wasn’t good enough to meet a pathetic, bullying victim’s standards. The thought still hurt, even as he tried to negate it. “The party and the—the…” he waved his hand towards the bed, but didn’t look back as he skimmed through his shirts, trying to pick one to wear.

“It’s fine,” Gerard mumbled. “Thanks for looking out for me. It’s nice to have someone…worry about me for a change.” He forced out a laugh and Frank glanced back at him after snagging a shirt off the hanger.

“What are friends for, right?” Gerard just stared at him. “Too bad I didn’t get the girl’s number for you, right?” Frank winked and Gerard’s cheeks turned instantly red.

“No—no, I don’t… She—I don’t… _girls_ …” Gerard turned his face away quickly and Frank perked his eyebrow. Was Gerard gay? Frank was about ninety-percent sure. He was either too shy to talk to them or a really embarrassed virgin…or gay.

“Don’t tell me you’re too shy to talk to them?” Frank asked, trying to clear up the ten-percent of doubt. 

“I don’t…like them?” Gerard said, turning his face back towards Frank nervously. 

“That’s cool,” Frank said, folding the shirt in his hands over his arm and going over to his dresser to get pants. “Me either. Girls are great, and I really love my mom, but they’re just…not my thing, you know?” Gerard might have mumbled ‘yeah,’ but Frank couldn’t be sure. “You have a boyfriend, then?”

“Not anymore,” Gerard answered, squirming slightly on the bed and making it creak. 

“Me either. He cheated…and stole my watch.”

“Mine just…broke up with me,” Gerard mumbled. Frank turned away from his dresser and his many pairs of jeans to read his expression. He looked like he wanted to talk, but was reluctant to let anyone else in on his memories and feelings. “I guess I didn’t make him happy like I thought.” Gerard started rubbing his left arm.

“Bad break up?” Frank asked in a gentle tone. Something about his movements, the way he was rubbing and cradling his arm made Frank suspicious. 

“He hurt me,” Gerard whispered, turning his face away and sighing.

Frank tried not to let the words excite him. He wasn’t being rejected because he didn’t meet Gerard’s standards—Gerard was just afraid of getting hurt again.

“Like, physically or…?” Gerard didn’t answer. Frank tried to remember, but he couldn’t recall ever seeing a scar or wound on Gerard’s arm when he’d spied on him changing in the locker room…but he made a mental note to look harder on Monday. The way he held his arm and rubbed it was suspicious. “Sorry. I’m a nosy motherfucker. But, uh, I keep what I learn to myself—you know. I don’t gossip or anything.” He leaned back on his dresser, cradling his clothes and trying to see if there was a way to recover the conversation.

He sounded like an insensitive busybody that may—or may not—have the hots for the boy he put in his bed.

“Sorry for making you and Ray leave early. I shouldn’t have asked for her drink.”

“You didn’t ask for it—she just gave it to you.” 

“Oh…”

“And I didn’t care. I was getting bored anyway. A whole bunch of girls wanted to dance with me, but that’s it. The guy I wanted to dance with wasn’t interested, I don’t think.” And there it was _again_ his desperation making him act rashly…making him try to rush things.

“I’d be too scared to dance with another guy in public,” Gerard mumbled, probably trying to change the subject. “I’m kind of pathetic…”

_Tell me about it,_ Frank thought.

“I used to be shy about it, but then I just kinda felt like ‘fuck it.’”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that confident,” Gerard said with a forced laugh.

“Well, after you get drunk and make out with your boyfriend at a school dance in front of everyone, there’s no going back.” Gerard giggled. Actually _giggled._ It was one of the cutest sounds Frank had ever heard.

“Yeah, my boyfriends were both…older.”

“Older?” Frank asked.

“Like…out of school or about to graduate older.”

“Well…you’re like a junior, right? So it’s not _that_ much older.” He failed to see why it was such a big deal. It could be seen in Gerard’s face that he seemed to have let out some kind of deadly secret. He looked ashamed. What was so wrong with a junior in high school dating a senior or even a college student?

“I dated my first boyfriend when I was fourteen…started seeing him when I was thirteen. Freshman in college. He was my friend’s older cousin. I met him at a party.”

“You were at a party when you were thirteen?” Frank asked, choosing to pick on that rather than the fact that Gerard had dated a complete pedophile. 

“It was a birthday party,” Gerard said with a fleeting smile. “Just kid stuff. The kid only invited me because our moms were friends, so while I was being ignored, Alex was the only one who talked to me.”

“And why did you break up? The age difference?” Gerard looked away quickly and sank into himself so fast that Frank wanted to bite his tongue off. Bad break up… “Parents find out?”

“I never told them about him. My dad would’ve killed me so fast…” Gerard tried to laugh, but he looked closer to tears.

“First break up’s always the worst,” Frank said quickly. “My first punched me in the eye. I almost went to juvie for that one. I beat him so bad.” Gerard’s eyes widened. “I was an angry twelve-year-old, but I got counseling so I’m okay now.” Way to sound like a freak...

“Um…I’ve never hit anyone.”

“I’ve never hit anyone I was dating,” Frank said, trying to stop his diarrhea of the mouth, but failing. “I mean…I don’t abuse or anything. I-I like to think I’m a nice boyfriend.”

“Frank?” Frank stiffened at the sound of his name. It didn’t sound friendly.

“Yeah?”

“I…You’re really nice, but…” Frank looked away quickly, knowing where this was going. “I know it’s a really stupid of me to think that you’re actually trying to hit on me, but my last boyfriend set me on fire, so I don’t think I’m ready to date yet.” Frank’s mind froze and the pain in his chest from the rejection disappeared.

Did he just say his last boyfriend lit him on _fire?_

“He did what to you?” Frank asked, setting his clothes down on his dresser and going over to his bed in order to sit down next to Gerard. Being rejected wasn’t as bad when the guy had a reason like _that._

“Set my sleeve on fire,” Gerard mumbled. 

“That’s…Gerard, that’s—” Gerard spoke loudly in order to cut Frank off, but his confidence disappeared halfway through his sentence.

“I only tell you this, Frank, because…I think you’re really cool and…maybe, if you give me some time, and you’re actually interested and not just bored and seeking entertainment…maybe we could—”

“He set you on _fire?_ ” Frank pressed, abandoning the idea of talking Gerard into a relationship right away and deciding to play up their current friendship in order to stay in other boy’s good graces.

“Yeah,” Gerard stammered, looking away.

“What the fuck was his problem? Was he on crack or something?” Gerard looked down at the bed and sighed.

“He was just…I don’t know. His friends were all cheering him on and stuff.” Gerard started rubbing his arm again. “He said he wasn’t happy.”

“Did you press charges?” Frank asked, touching Gerard’s shoulder and massaging it gently when Gerard didn’t flinch or push him away.

“No. But I went to the doctor and everything. I got myself taken care of and I transferred so I wouldn’t have to see him, even if he is graduating soon.”

“So that’s why you switched schools,” Frank said under his breath. Gerard hummed.

“I told you…so, tell me, why did you get expelled from your Catholic school?” Gerard forced out a laugh and a smile came over his lips.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you. Sorry—government business.” Gerard laughed slightly and shook his head.

“Come on. Tell me—was it fighting? An affair with the teacher? Cheating on tests? What?” Frank contemplated telling him—Gerard told him something personal and he should do the same—but couldn’t handle the thought. There was no way Gerard would stick around him if he heard that Frank spied on boys in locker rooms.

“Government secret,” Frank repeated. Gerard’s humor dissipated and Frank could barely handle his sudden, sad look. It was like he thought Frank didn’t trust him. “It was just…something I’m not proud of. I’m still kinda working on it…so it’s hard to talk about.”

“I understand,” Gerard said. He didn’t sound like he understood. 

“But…if we stay friends, I’ll tell you,” Frank added. “I don’t want it to…make you avoid me or hate me or anything.” Again, his mouth was running away and making everything worse. He’d never been less composed in his life!

“Okay,” Gerard said, nodding. “Um…lunch soon? And then I have to go home. My dad’s probably got the shotgun ready to shoot me in the head when I get in as it is.”

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, sure. Just gonna change.” Frank turned his back and sifted through the clothes he’d grabbed, assuring himself that it was an acceptable outfit before running away to the bathroom to change clothes.

“Is Ray…gay too?” Gerard asked in a strange tone as Frank was about to leave. 

“No,” Frank answered in a tone that asked ‘why.’ 

“Oh.” Gerard’s tone answered Frank’s unspoken question with a non-verbal ‘oh, no reason.’ “He seems nice.” Frank tried not to let his mind go there—tried not to get instantly jealous.

But it was no use…

If Gerard had the hots for Ray Toro, that guy was going to get killed. Frank would see to it.


	5. Secrets

Gerard tried not to fidget too much or stare at the ground too much or mumble too much when Frank walked him to his house after lunch. They made small talk about music and comic books, though Gerard could tell that Frank was no more interested in the chat than he was.

Things were too awkward between them to pretend that everything was normal. Sure, Gerard was excited that Frank—so cute and so _cool_ —liked the same bands that he did and read some of the same comic books, but he was nervous now. 

Frank might actually _like_ him. Frank had tried to ask him out… Gerard had allowed himself to push Frank away. How could he be so stupid?—and yet so smart.

It was better, wasn’t it? To push Frank away before Frank could push _him_ away? It would hurt less, wouldn’t it? If Frank just quit showing interest in him rather than having to formally declare their relationship—and friendship—over if he decided Gerard didn’t meet his standards anymore?

Gerard just really hated letting the opportunity slip away.

“So…Um, I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday?” Frank asked, standing on Gerard’s porch with his hands in his pockets.

“We’ll eat lunch together again? You, me, Mikey and Ray?” Gerard wanted to ask Frank to come inside, but he was afraid of what it might lead to. Frank might get an idea and… Gerard cast his eyes down at the ground. 

What kind of boyfriend could he be for Frank, really? He was used up, inexperienced, terrified of fuckin’ everything, and unwilling to try again. He had nothing to offer, and it was cruel to try to lead Frank on into a relationship as empty as the one he could propose.

“Sounds great,” Frank said, leaning down and no doubt trying to catch Gerard’s eye. Gerard didn’t know if he wanted to let Frank see him. Frank knew by now that he was pathetic, but Gerard didn’t need to keep giving him proof. “So…see you then?” 

Frank looked really reluctant to leave. Like he was expecting something. A kiss or something. And they weren’t even dating…

Not that Gerard would oppose a kiss, even if the thought made him nervous. He could envision how it would be—slowly leaning down and Frank slowly leaning up, their mouths would meet, and it would be innocent and gentle.

But his fucking _parents_ were home. They could peek out the curtains at any second—and his _dad_ might see! God, he could never explain that to his dad…or the neighbors. (Not that they really spoke to the neighbors, but God, they might see something or tell someone or…)

“Are you okay, Gerard?” Frank asked. “You look kind of scared.”

“I’m okay,” Gerard answered quickly. “Sorry, do you want to come inside?” Gerard wanted to bite his tongue off. Why did he invite him in? Why was he letting Frank _in?_ “I mean—If you don’t have anything better to do. I mean, your mom’s not home and…if you’re bored, I’m not doing anything.” Frank’s face lit up and Gerard wanted to melt into the earth and disappear. 

If he let Frank into his room, he couldn’t hide any more. He hadn’t even cleaned it. Art was everywhere, clothes were everywhere, weird, unexplainable objects were everywhere…If Frank saw that then there was no way he’d stick around.

So maybe it was a good thing. He needed to chase Frank off anyway.

“Your parents won’t care?” Frank asked, more of a formality than an actual concern.

Gerard shook his head and let Frank in without another word, his eyes cast down towards the floor.

( ) ( ) ( )

Mikey was staring at the stairwell to Gerard’s room in what had to be shock. What the hell did Gerard think he was doing? He gets himself set on fire and then runs off into the sunset with _another_ punk right away?

Goes out and lets the guy get him drunk, sleeps over at this virtual _stranger’s_ house, and then brings him home too!? 

Had his last relationship—or visit to the hospital—taught him nothing?

Gerard really was completely incapable of looking after himself, and it pissed Mikey off. Were they going to have to switch schools again if this relationship ended badly as well? Maybe this punk would stab him in the face and there wouldn’t be a next time.

After shaking away his sudden paralysis, Mikey started toward the stairwell, prepared to listen and wait. If he didn’t hear noises of distress within the next ten minutes he’d go back to his room and finish the book he was reading, but if Gerard made so much as one mumble of discontent, Mikey was getting their parents involved.

He was tired of being the big babysitter, keeping Gerard safe from himself.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as he sat down on Gerard’s bed and watched the other boy frantically try to clean the place up. The room was dark, chaotic, and a bit claustrophobic in areas, but Frank didn’t mind. 

The one thing he did mind was that Gerard wouldn’t look him in the eye anymore. Not since they’d stood together on the porch. Frank tried to catch his gaze, but Gerard just wouldn’t give. 

“So…uh, you’ve got some cool stuff,” Frank stated, just to make more small talk when their conversation turned into Gerard silently cleaning his room like a child in trouble with his parents. 

“You think so?” Gerard asked, shoving something unidentifiable into a drawer in his desk. 

“Yeah—you draw I can see.” Gerard hummed neutrally and Frank sighed. He was cute, but he really lacked social skills. Frank bet that the ‘older boys’ he’d dated only got with him to take advantage of his innocence. 

Which led Frank to wonder just how many guys shy little Gerard allowed to touch him like that. He said he’d only had two boyfriends, and he definitely didn’t seem like the type to go for one-night-stands, so maybe he’d only ever been with two guys.

Or one.

Or _none._

Was Gerard a virgin? Frank had to fight to keep from laughing. The thought was kind of cute. To get Gerard in bed, all needy, shy, and inexperienced. Frank could completely take advantage of him and Gerard wouldn’t even know!

But he didn’t want to hurt Gerard. And if he really _was_ that innocent, the last thing Frank wanted was to make his first experience a nightmare that would leave him scarred for life. 

“You draw a lot,” Frank tried again. “And you’ve got a lot of comic books…are you thinking of making your own?”

“Sometimes,” Gerard answered, he looked at Frank—finally _looked_ at him again—and stared for a minute like he wanted to say more but was holding back.

“You should. I bet it’d be awesome.” Frank tried to pump some energy into his voice, hoping that it would encourage Gerard to open up a little more. “Do you write, too? You have a lot of notebooks.”

“I do sometimes,” Gerard said. Frank wanted to get up and throw one of the notebooks at him. The brief, vague answers were pissing him off so bad. “I don’t think I’m very good, but…but if you want to look at some of my things I could show you.”

Frank felt the relief flood him as Gerard finally quit straightening up his room and picked up a sketch pad from his desk. 

“These are some of my newer things,” Gerard said, opening the pad and flipping quickly past a few pages before finally letting Frank see one of the drawings. “I haven’t drawn much in the last…couple of months after my ex broke up with me, but I’ve got some new ideas that I wouldn’t mind sketching out soon.” 

Frank smiled as Gerard showed him some of the drawings—a bunch of harsh lines and scratches that added up to make figure drawings and macabre cityscapes. Yeah, Gerard really fit the description of tortured artist.

“And I’ve got—” Gerard snapped the sketch pad shut and tossed it onto the desk so that he could sift through a stack of nearly identical composition notebooks “—some of my songs and stuff.”

“You write songs?” Frank asked, letting himself become immersed in Gerard’s creative world.

“Sometimes.” Frank had to keep from rolling his eyes. Sometimes, sometimes, _sometimes._ That was Gerard’s answer to everything. “I’ve gotten a lot better at writing—it’s kind of a trade-off. When I get really good at writing, my art skills go down and when I get really good at drawing, my writing turns to shit. I’m working on finding a happy medium.”

“I write a little bit, too, but I don’t draw or anything. You’re really good.” Gerard was less lenient with his composition notebooks—not even letting Frank hold them or turn pages.

It really just looked like Gerard didn’t want to let him in. Like Gerard was afraid that Frank might see something.

“My old art teacher helped me start on my portfolio for school,” Gerard said, closing his notebook and tossing it away before Frank could even finish reading the first stanza of the lyric he’d been shown.

“You’re thinking of going into art school?” Frank asked, nervous that Gerard was going to say ‘sometimes.’

“Yeah…I mean, it’s all I’m good at, really.” Gerard went over to the corner of his room and dug out a black portfolio folder from beneath a stack of books and loose papers. 

“You have no confidence at all, do you?” Frank asked, annoyed with Gerard’s pathetic tone. “You’ve got to toughen up if you’re ever going to make it.”

“I know,” Gerard answered in a mumble. “It’s hard to…”

“Especially when your support system sets you on fire,” Frank said, watching Gerard’s eyes cloud over in pain. He probably shouldn’t have said that.

“Can you not…say that so loud? My dad doesn’t know—”

“Your dad doesn’t know what?” Frank jumped at the sound of the different voice from behind him, but Gerard dropped both his portfolio and himself onto the floor in shock. Frank turned around quickly, not sure if he was preparing to confront the new occupant of Gerard’s room or run for the door. “Sorry,” the man said. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, Dad, that’s _exactly_ what you meant to do!” Gerard shouted pathetically from where he’d dropped on the floor. Frank sighed, and glanced from the man—Gerard’s father—back to Gerard who was shakily getting onto his feet again, leaving his portfolio on the ground.

“Well I didn’t mean to make you fall down,” the man grumbled. “You’re so jumpy anymore.” Frank backed out of his path when the man started toward him. “I spent a lot of money on that portfolio. Don’t leave it on the ground.”

Gerard hurried to pick up the book before his father could and held it to his chest protectively. 

“You okay?” His father asked him. Gerard just held the book tighter. Frank couldn’t tell if something was wrong about this relationship or if this was just Gerard being Gerard. “I didn’t mean to scare you that bad. You need to lighten up.” His father patted his shoulder and Gerard turned his face further away from him. After that, his father backed a step away from him. “Is this Frank? The kid you were staying with last night?”

Gerard only nodded.

“Sorry for not…calling ahead of time,” Frank felt compelled to say when the man’s eyes landed on him. “I just kinda…kidnapped him.” Frank forced out a laugh, but the man just shrugged.

“I don’t care—as long as he comes back in one piece. Or at least has the courtesy to _tell me_ when he gets home.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Gerard mumbled. His father rolled his eyes. 

Frank really hoped they wouldn’t start fighting with him standing right there. It may be embarrassing for Gerard to get yelled at in front of a friend, but it was just plain awkward to be the one witnessing the argument.

“Well, I’m glad your home. Your mother wishes to know if you’ve eaten lunch already,” his father said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Frank gave me lunch,” Gerard mumbled, holding his portfolio a little tighter.

“Okay. That’s all I came down here for. I’ll leave you two to yourselves.” Gerard’s father started back towards the doorway but paused before going upstairs. “You smell like alcohol. You’re grounded.” With that—and a strong, frustrated huff from Gerard—the man was gone.

“I guess your parents aren’t as cool as my mom,” Frank mumbled, thinking of his own mother who had only ever tried to punish him once for drinking underage. 

Gerard didn’t respond except for to hold his portfolio even closer to his chest. It made Frank feel like there was something wrong.

“Hey,” Frank said, trying to catch Gerard’s downcast gaze. “Hey, you okay?” Gerard lifted his head, squeezed his portfolio a little more, but kept his stare fixed on the ground. “Gerard?”

“I’m fine,” Gerard mumbled, turning his back to Frank in order to put his portfolio back on the stack of books and papers in the corner of his room.

“You’re acting really…Your dad, I mean, you act like you’re afraid of him. Is everything okay?” Frank didn’t know why he asked. He knew he wouldn’t get a true answer.

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled. “He’s not _abusive_ or anything. He just doesn’t understand much about me.”

“Understand? Like what? Like you being gay, or—” Gerard stiffened and looked towards the stairs quickly.

“Don’t—not in my house, okay? Just don’t say that in my house.” He looked terrified. “Dad won’t… My mom and dad—just don’t bring it up. Not here—not at my house. Not here.”

Frank felt that he understood well enough. They weren’t supportive of him. Frank hated families like that. It was no wonder Gerard spent every day in his own personal bubble of despair.

“What about Mikey?” Frank asked, a great deal quieter. 

“Mikey…” Gerard turned his face away and sighed. “Mikey doesn’t like the guys I like, but I think that’s the only problem he has with me…about that.” At least he had someone, Frank felt. At least Gerard had someone to lean on for support.

“So he…probably thinks it’s pretty suspicious that you were out all night with me then,” Frank said, forcing out a laugh in hopes of lightening the mood.

“Mikey? Yeah…probably.”

“No, not Mikey—your dad.” Gerard froze up again.

“Yeah…Dad, um. He…I don’t really want to talk about it?” Gerard looked afraid again.

“Gerard, is he hurting you because if it? Every time I mention it, you look really frightened—like, petrified.” Gerard shook his head.

“Dad doesn’t hurt me. It’s just…I don’t think he wants to hear about it. It’s…really disappointing for him, I’m sure. Embarrassing and all that.” And quickly Gerard looked close to tears.

“Did he say that to you?” Frank asked, putting a hand on Gerard’s shoulder and squeezing it softly. Gerard turned his head towards the hand and then lowered his face so his cheek brushed against Frank’s fingers.

It was the first real sign of affection Gerard had ever given him. But it wasn’t so much an ‘I love you,’ it was more of a plea for kindness and a gentle touch.

“Gerard…” Frank pulled his hand away and Gerard sighed softly. He looked troubled. “Come here,” Frank said, gently guiding Gerard’s head so that the other boy finally looked at him. “Come here.” It was barely a whisper as Frank leaned his mouth closer to Gerard’s. 

Gerard gasped and tried to turn away, looking directly towards the stairwell.

“No, come here,” Frank said, keeping his voice gentle as he guided Gerard’s face back to him. Gerard whimpered softly as Frank finally got their mouths to meet. 

It would have been a better if Gerard didn’t keep making noises like he was about to cry or hyperventilate. It would’ve been better if Gerard had kissed back.

“You’re okay,” Frank said softly, leaning back and stroking Gerard’s cheek. “I won’t hurt you, Gerard.” Gerard looked at him and then glanced away quickly. “Whatever it is you’re going through, I’ll help you through it, okay?”

“I don’t think it’s anything you can help with,” Gerard said, touching his hand to his mouth and turning his face away. Frank sighed and wondered why he was letting himself get involved.

Was he that desperate for a boyfriend? Was he that in need of someone to cuddle when he was lonely at night? Gerard was a fucking train wreck. He had so many issues that would only weigh Frank down. He wasn’t even sure where to start when it came to fixing them…and Gerard didn’t even want a boyfriend.

Why fight for someone who didn’t even want him? There had to be other options. And, sure, Gerard was adorable, but other than that he was just a mess. A giant, walking anxiety disorder.

“Gerard!” Gerard flinched from the sound of his father’s voice, calling from upstairs. “I thought by now you’d realize that ‘you’re grounded’ means your friend has to go home!” Gerard started shaking again and Frank narrowed his eyes.

Something about this wasn’t right.

“You should go,” Gerard said, hardly audible. “He probably wants to yell at me.”

“Or _hit_ you?” Frank asked, accusingly as he thought back to the bruises he’d seen on Gerard’s body when he’d watched him change for gym. Those markings had to come from somewhere—and if not an abusive boyfriend then who? 

“I told you,” Gerard mumbled. “Dad’s not abusive. He doesn’t hurt me.”

“Then why are you so scared?” Frank whispered back harshly.

“It’s just…I don’t like to hear what he has to say, you know? I know what he wants to say, and I don’t want to hear it again.”

“You know, there are such things as verbal and _emotional_ abuse,” Frank insisted. Gerard sighed and turned away.

“I’m fine, Frank. Just, please go. Before he gets really angry. I’ll see you at school, okay?” Frank threw his arms up in defeat and started for the stairs, not listening to Gerard’s small whine.

“Fine. I’ll see you at school.” Frank went up the stairs, leaving Gerard behind him. As he was leaving, he caught the glance of Gerard’s father. He tried not to let himself glare at the man, but he couldn’t help it. The man to have done something to get his son to quake at the very sound of his voice.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard made sure his back was to the stairs when he finally heard his father coming down to confront him. It would probably be better to face him right away, but there was solace in knowing that his father could read his body language. He found comfort in the fact that his dad already knew he was unhappy and ashamed.

“So, uh…that’s your new friend from school?” His dad chose as his introduction to their conversation.

“Yeah,” Gerard answered. “He’s…Mikey’s friend’s friend. We eat together at lunch.” He waited for it. Waited to hear his father praise him like a dog for finally ‘opening up’ and for being will to ‘meet new people.’

“That’s great. Your mom and I were worried about you—about how you’d get along at this school…private school.” Gerard turned so that his side was facing his dad so he could keep an eye on him in case he moved closer. “We didn’t think it’d be your kind of crowd, but you seem to have found a place to fit in.” Gerard only hummed. 

It was coming. The ‘you manage to find the bad crowd wherever you go’ was already implied, but more was coming. And quickly, too, by the looks of things. His father had sighed heavily and turned his gaze to the floor.

“Look, Gerard, you can’t just stay out all night and not tell us where you’re going—or use Mikey to set up your stories for you.” Gerard looked away from him and stared at the less accusing wall. “Your mom and I are willing to negotiate with you a bit on this one, okay? You’ll be eighteen soon, you’ve got girlfriends and stuff.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Gerard muttered. “I don’t have anyone.”

“Well…Gerard—that doesn’t matter! The point is, you’re practically an adult now, okay? You’ve earned some responsibilities and some _privileges._ Your mom and I feel that you should be able to go out—we never prevented you from spending time with friends. But, if you want to stay out all night, at least tell us first, or call us yourself—stop using Mikey. And quit lying about where you’re going.”

“I couldn’t call last night. That’s why Ray called Mikey to tell you.”

“Pass out drunk?” His father said, a bit of sarcasm in his tone. Gerard thought about shrugging and letting his father run with the assumption, but his mouth ran away with him.

“Not exactly,” he heard himself mumble. He glanced at his dad in time to see his eyes widen with a sort of surprise, then he started smirking. Gerard knew what he was thinking and it made him nauseous.

“Found a girl, did you?” Gerard looked down at the ground and shook his head. “No? Come on, don’t hold back.”

“I was dancing with a girl,” Gerard mumbled. “Well…a girl was dancing with me and she gave me her drink. Someone spiked it. Frank took me back to his place so I wouldn’t have to…so he wouldn’t have to take me home like that.”

“You got _drugged_ last night?” His father asked, looking disgusted.

“Because I took that girl’s drink…so I saved her from someone. And Frank kept me safe.”

“He should’ve taken you to the fuckin’ hospital—you don’t know what was in that drink, Gerard!” Gerard sighed and stared at the wall.

“Probably just roofies—I’m fine, Dad. Frank stayed up to make sure I didn’t…die or anything in my sleep.”

“You don’t even know this kid! Hell, Gerard, _he_ could’ve been the one who drugged you. Did you ever think of that?” Gerard didn’t want to think of that—he’d _already_ thought of that.

“Dad…he’s not—Frank’s not like that,” he said, finally looking his father in the eye. “Don’t talk…about him like that.” After getting his demand out, he lowered his gaze immediately. He was so afraid his father would somehow see the growing feelings he had for the other boy—so afraid of being figured out and finally seen for what he was.

“Fine, but you should be more careful if you’re going to go to parties like that where you don’t _know_ anyone. Do you know how upset your mom and I would be if something were to happen to you?” Gerard let his eyes trace his bedroom floor. “Now, your mom says you’re grounded—that was her call, not mine—so…”

“So…?” Gerard stared at his floor, knowing of only one place this could go. 

“So I guess you can’t go out this weekend…or something.” That’s what Gerard thought. There was nothing else that could be taken away from him. It wasn’t like he played games that much, and he didn’t watch television that much unless a good movie was on. What could they forbid him from doing? Writing? Drawing? Ground him from his room and make him sleep on the couch? He didn’t have a phone that could be taken away.

Sometimes, doing nothing paid off. If you didn’t have anything, there was nothing to lose.

“Your mom wants to talk to you later, too. But, you might want to clean yourself up first. It couldn’t hurt to look a little more presentable.” Gerard didn’t see how a shower or a change of clothes would help him get out of the trouble he was in, but nodded just to avoid another argument.

“Is Mikey in trouble for covering for me?” Gerard asked quietly. 

“Not really, no. But he’s not being rewarded for it either.” Gerard just hummed and stared at the wall. “Are you okay?—or are you just hung over?”

“I’m fine,” Gerard answered, his words hardly audible.

“You don’t sound fine, Gerard.” Gerard lowered his eyes to the floor and tried to ignore his father who stepped closer to him. “How’s your arm?”

“It’s fine,” Gerard said, moving a step away and covering his left arm with his right hand in case his dad decided to grab it. His dad sighed heavily.

“Fine.” His father backed off, but didn’t leave. “You know, I wish you’d stop acting like you’re scared of everything that moves—hell, your friend thinks I’m beating you or something!” Gerard flinched and his eyes widened. 

“Were you listening to our conversation?” He asked quickly, finally turning to face his father all of the way. If he’d been eavesdropping, who knew what he’d figured out.

“Did you tell him that I was!?” 

“No!” Gerard shouted back in alarm. “Dad, I never said anything like that! I really didn’t!” His dad didn’t seem to believe him.

“And what was it that I don’t know about? I let it go when I came down earlier, but now I don’t think I can.” Gerard frowned because he thought he’d escaped that confrontation. Now what the hell was he supposed to say? The more he lied, the worse it was going to get. His father would point out every hole in every story until he finally broke Gerard into giving up the truth. “So, come on, kid—what don’t I know about?”

“Dad, please—just…”

“No, come on. What are you hiding this time?” Gerard turned so his back was to his dad in order to hide his face as he raced through every idea he had. 

Tell him he’d been drinking before the party. Tell him he’d been smoking—or that he’d tried drugs. Tell him he thought he might have gotten his ‘girlfriend’ pregnant, or that he thought he caught an STD from her. Tell him _something_ , just not the truth.

He couldn’t tell him he was gay—couldn’t tell him that his last _boyfriend_ had been the one who set his arm on fire.

“Answer me. It can’t be that bad. Come on.”

“It’s nothing, Dad, really,” Gerard managed to whimper out. 

“Then just say it if it’s nothing.” Gerard tried to think harder. What the hell could he say to get out of this? He couldn’t tell the truth. He couldn’t tell his dad what happened that night. “Come on. Spit it out. Don’t hide things from me.”

Gerard whimpered and stared at his wall, feeling helpless. What could he tell him? Usually he was good at lying, but today his mind had nothing. It was just empty.

“I didn’t tell you that I got beat up in the locker room on Thursday,” Gerard finally spat out. There, it was the truth and a lie. It _was_ something his dad didn’t know, but it wasn’t what he and Frank had been discussing.

“You what?”

“Got beat up…in the locker room on Thursday,” Gerard repeated, feigning defeat and embarrassment and all of that other shit that made his story look real. He used to getting punched and shoved and kicked in the crotch—it didn’t really phase him anymore. 

“Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me, Gerard?”

“What difference would it make?”

“Well…did you tell _anyone?_ Besides your friend?”

“No.”

“Gerard…”

“What difference would it make? They’re not going to get in trouble. I have no proof.” Gerard sighed because he knew he was getting away with it. His secrets were safe for a little while longer.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank got home and sat on his couch with his legs crossed, showing the world that he was angry even though there was no one around to see. 

The more he thought, the more obvious everything seemed and the more annoyed he became. 

Gerard was a mess, shaking at every sound and movement. He gravitated towards men that really didn’t treat him so well, and just the sound of his father’s voice reduced him to shaking ball of flesh and bone. 

He had bruises and scratches down his body, but had left his boyfriend weeks ago—the bruises should have been gone.

Someone else was hurting him, and Frank bet more than anything that it was his father. Why else would he shake just from his voice? Why would he try to defend the man but never give any examples of how his dad is just an average dad? Because he didn’t have any examples—and he seemed afraid to lie. He’d rather change the subject or play along with other’s assumptions and conclusions.

Still, he lived every day of his life in utter terror and it wasn’t fair. Frank would admit that the pathetic persona wasn’t his usual type of guy, but there was something about Gerard—something like an unspoken plea for help—that had him entranced. He wanted to help Gerard get better, no matter what that meant so long as Gerard would be willing to accept that help without putting up a fight.

No matter how cute Gerard was, if he didn’t want help then Frank wasn’t going to waste his time.


	6. Lie

Frank took his time analyzing every inch of Gerard’s exposed skin as he changed into his attire for gym on Monday. He was looking for new bruises and new scratches that would prove his assumptions correct. 

But there was nothing. No new mark that suggested his father was beating him. Just a vast expanse of pale, white skin.

But he was able to see a slight difference in skin tone on Gerard’s left arm…the arm that had been burned. The discoloration, hidden no doubt by some kind of concealer or other makeup, traveled from his wrist all of the way to the bend of his elbow.

It had to have hurt him so badly. Frank didn’t want to even imagine it, but he could see it so clearly.

Poor Gerard. He’d probably been crazy for the guy—so in love that he’d let the punk do anything, even if that punk kept making little, presumably empty threats to him. Little things like ‘if you don’t get outta my face, I’m gonna bust your lip.’

The guy was probably one of those abusive freaks, anyway. He probably said all kinds of things just to see Gerard get upset. He probably made threats to him every day, and that was why Gerard didn’t respond when he’d been threatened to be burned.

Frank could see that night in his mind. Could see Gerard sneaking out and going to whatever place his boyfriend told him to go to. He’d probably had a deep feeling somewhere in his soul that he should’ve stayed home, that he shouldn’t be out tonight. But he trusted his boyfriend not to hurt him or let him get hurt.

He could picture Gerard so in love with this guy that when he rounded the street corner and saw him, he probably smiled. One could even believe that the smile had set the guy off.

There was no way to know what was said between them before…before the boyfriend did whatever he did. Lit him with a lighter, spattered his sleeve with kerosene first, used a fucking blow torch…Frank didn’t know, but thinking about it made him want to leap out of the locker and wrap Gerard up in his arms.

Who cared if Gerard was pathetic? Who cared if he was an easy target, or a bad lover, or uninteresting friend? Why light him on fire? There had to be some reason—some thought in the guy’s head.

Maybe it was the same reason that the last jock to leave the locker room pushed Gerard face-first into the door of his locker, making Gerard whimper in the pathetic way that he always did before he growled.

Maybe Gerard just attracted that kind of person, and then released a pheromone that said “be mean to me.”

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard smiled at Frank faintly from across the lunch table. It was strange though, because Frank was staring at him but wouldn’t look him in the eye. Usually, he’d be glad that he was able to hide within himself with no prying eyes trying to get a peek into his hiding place—but with Frank, he thought they were past that.

He sort of _wanted_ Frank to see him. They’d kissed. Frank had looked over him and hadn’t taken advantage of him when he’d been at his weakest and most vulnerable. Why didn’t Frank want to see him now?

Or maybe he should’ve been asking why did Frank not want Gerard to see _him?_

“How’s your day been, Frank?” Gerard asked after sitting in silence became unbearable. 

“Fine,” Frank answered quickly, suddenly meeting Gerard’s eyes and smiling warmly. “Still grounded?”

“Yeah,” Gerard answered, laughing softly and scanning Frank’s eyes—mainly to see how long it would take for Frank to look away. “Mom says I can’t go out again until next weekend, but I can have friends over again after this week.”

Frank glanced away and Gerard lowered his eyes.

“Maybe we could hang out then?” Frank suggested, taking a bite of food and looking back up. Gerard was happy to meet his gaze again, even though his stomach was starting to flutter and twist into knots. 

“If you want to,” Gerard answered, trying not to sound eerily eager or too disinterested. He didn’t want to be so enthusiastic that it scared Frank away from him, but he was still nervous about letting Frank get so close—and get so close so fast…

What was he thinking? Didn’t he remember what happened when he let things go fast? Didn’t he remember the burn? 

But when he took things to slow…didn’t he remember the _rape?_

Gerard shuddered instantly—he tried to hide it, but couldn’t stop the sudden tremors. He could feel the fire licking at his arm, and he could feel Alex’s rough hands on his body and his breath on his ear.

It was like he was in those awful places again, and though he wanted to hide in someone’s arms, there was no one alive that he trusted to hold him. 

He took in a shaking breath and lowered his eyes to his tray of food quickly. Gerard wanted to focus on the present now that he’d woken himself up with the past. He had to have been stupid to let Frank close, to let Frank in. 

It didn’t matter if they took things fast or slow—there was no pace that was perfect.

Couldn’t he see? Couldn’t he look with his eyes and take in the tattoos and the dark hair and _see_ that Frank was trouble? That this boy who had been expelled from a different school for reasons he wouldn’t explain was a _danger_ to him?

Gerard was _asking_ to be hurt again. He was getting on his hands and knees and pleading for Frank to tear him apart—and maybe even kill him this time.

Gerard felt stupid.

“Hey…Hey? Gerard, are you okay?” Frank asked. He sounded compassionate, but Gerard still shivered. He didn’t believe that tone. 

Gerard glanced over at his brother who was looking at him with brutal accusations brewing behind his eyes. Mikey had known all along. Mikey probably thought him to be dumb.

“Gerard?” Frank asked again. Gerard glanced at him and shivered. He could see Frank lighting him on fire…he could imagine Frank torturing him for holding out on sex, just like Alex had done. Sick pleasure twisting the other boy’s lips, fire burning in his eyes... “What’s wrong?” 

Gerard wanted to curl into a ball and hide. He didn’t want Frank to see him anymore. He wanted to disappear—just disappear from the entire earth and go to a place where Frank couldn’t follow.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank walked out of the school feeling anxious and mad. What the hell was Gerard’s problem? He’d _literally_ been fine one second, and then the next he was shaking and silent—not even willing to make or confirm any plans to spend time together later, even though that was where their previous conversation had been leading. Frank couldn’t figure out what had changed, and it pissed him off.

All he knew was that Gerard had been striving to make eye contact with him for once when he usually tried to hide himself away. Why the fuck did the kid have to be so goddamned weird, and so goddamned complicated?

“Hey—I want to talk to you.” Frank jumped when he heard the voice come from behind him. He turned around quickly to be faced by Mikey—Gerard’s oddly protective, albeit younger, brother.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Frank asked. He tried to be personable, but even he felt that there was a sting to his tone.

“I just have one little question for you,” Mikey said, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest as if trying to come off as intimidating. 

“What?” Frank asked, letting his tone be sharp.

“What is it you want from my brother?” Frank almost answered (almost answered with a question of his own) but could only stutter in his annoyance. What the fuck? Was the whole _family_ as fucked up as Gerard? “Yeah, I know about you two—I had you pegged from the start. Tattoos, dark hair…shady past. Yeah, you’re just the type of guy he’d go after. So are you looking for a fun time or do you actually plan to give a shit about him?”

“It’s not any of your business,” Frank hissed, looking around quickly to see if anyone was listening. He didn’t want labeled a fag without his permission. His sexuality wasn’t a secret, but that didn’t mean he _wanted_ it to be common knowledge. 

“It’s my business if you’re going to start beating him, or controlling him, or _using_ him. You got him drunk over the weekend, let him get drugged—”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Frank hissed. “Fuck you. I made sure no one hurt him.” Mikey stared him down and somehow made Frank feel even smaller. Frank hadn’t done anything—he’d just tried to show Gerard a good time. It wasn’t his fault it had ended badly. And it wasn’t his fault that Gerard had a spazz-attack at lunch and turned into a shaking mess.

“You should’ve brought him home, not to your house. You should’ve gotten our number and _called._ I was worried.”

“What are you, his mom?” Frank snapped. He wanted to stay tough, but he was starting to crumble. Mikey’s aggression was making more and more sense, and he didn’t want to be in the wrong.

“Gerard doesn’t look after himself—someone has to do it for him. He didn’t get lit on fire by his boyfriend because he’s self-sufficient.” Frank shrugged his shoulders, mouth open but unable to form words. What did Mikey want him to do? Gerard was fucked up. It wasn’t his fault. As for getting out of involvement with him, he felt Gerard was tearing them apart already. “Now, supposing you’re not a psychopath and you really would just like to know my brother a little better, he’s running late because he’s talking to his art teacher. He’ll be out in a few minutes. You should try to patch things up from lunch.” 

Frank looked away towards the street and then back at Mikey. Only now Gerard was creeping towards them from within the school.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard saw Mikey talking to Frank and it made him nervous. He was embarrassed after what he’d let happen at lunch and he was so afraid that he’d done irreparable damage to what he and Frank almost had. 

He’d gotten scared. He’d haunted himself with his memories and let him ruin a perfectly beautiful moment. Frank was what he wanted his future to be. Someone to kiss him softly and teach him how to be loved again, and loved properly. Gerard didn’t want to mess that up.

“Frank,” Gerard called, trying to sound cheerful, or at least polite. 

“Oh. Hey, Gerard,” Frank said, staring at him emptily. Gerard felt his stomach twist and tried to think of what to say—or if there was anything he could say to save him.

“I’m…I’m sorry about lunch,” Gerard mumbled, flinching when Mikey started walking away. “I had a bad memory,” he said, unsure how else to word what had happened. “I scared myself I guess, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Frank said, flashing a fake smile and bouncing on his heels slightly. “Do you still want to hang out next week when you’re ungrounded?” Gerard nodded quickly, not caring if he looked creepily eager. “Cool—um…how about on Monday?”

“The sooner the better,” Gerard said, chewing his lip nervously and looking around them at the few students left trickling out of the building and making their ways home.

Frank was staring at him like he was deranged and it made Gerard feel feeble and small.

“I’m sorry again about lunch,” Gerard mumbled, trying to see anything he could in Frank’s eyes. The other boy was unreadable. “I don’t mean to be…weird. I just am, I guess.”

“I like that about you,” Frank said, looking at the ground. “It’s cute. But…a little scary, you know? Like, I never know when you’re going to go bi-polar on me.” Gerard looked away and tried not to feel wounded. “It’s like…Sometimes, it’s like you don’t want to be my friend at all, and it makes me feel like I’m forcing you into something you don’t want.”

“I want to be with you,” Gerard said quickly. “I’m just—I’m fucked up,” Gerard admitted. “I’m just really fucked up right now, and I’m trying to get better.”

“You’re fine,” Frank said quickly. “You’re just really tense, and you talk too much. If you’re weak, don’t say it—don’t admit it because then you’re just giving up. Fight it. Toughen up. Don’t be pathetic.” Somehow his words weren’t as hurtful as Gerard felt they should be. They were almost kind, like needed advice.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank was tired of the rollercoaster ride that was his relationship with Gerard. They were hanging out again now that Gerard was ungrounded, but he never knew how his almost boyfriend was going to behave. 

Some days he would like to talk, and some days he wouldn’t. Sometimes he leaned in when Frank tried to steal a kiss, but sometimes he would lean away and cower. And talking about Gerard’s ex-boyfriends was strictly off-limits, even though Frank could tell that there was a gaping wound besides the burn somewhere in his past.

Gerard _always_ shut down if Frank asked about the ex that lit him on fire, and _disappeared_ if he mentioned that guy’s predecessors. 

And then Frank made the worst mistake—he let himself get carried away with trying to assuage his curiosity. 

“So…with your boyfriends—did you ever do more than, you know, kiss and stuff?” He tried to make it sound casual, like two guys talking, but it must have failed because Gerard whimpered.

“N-No,” Gerard snapped instantly, turning his face away and staring at the wall of his bedroom. “No, I-I don’t…I wouldn’t be good at that. They wouldn’t want that with me…”

“But you’re cute,” Frank said, trying anything that came to mind to build Gerard back up. 

“I’m really not,” Gerard said, turning his face away and starting at the floor. He looked like he’d fallen from some extreme emotional height and had been left in ruins. 

“Gerard, I don’t know what they did to you, but you need to let it go. Why do you cut yourself down every time you open your mouth?”

“I don’t,” Gerard mumbled.

“Yes you do,” Frank argued. “Just because you dated, like, however many guys you fuckin’ went with and none of them had the balls to make a move doesn’t mean you’re undesirable. You’re a virgin—you dated a bunch of pussies, get over it.”

Frank realized that he’d taken something too far because Gerard was staring at him—face pale and eyes wide in terror. Gerard looked like he wanted to say something, but no words were coming out of his slightly open mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” Frank added. “But it’s annoying to hear you hurt your self-esteem every time I give you a compliment.” Gerard turned his eyes away and swallowed hard. 

“Frank…I’m not—”

“I know you’re not trying to, but it’s what you do,” Frank argued. Gerard sighed and let his tense shoulders drop before meeting Frank’s eyes. He looked tired.

“Frank, really, that’s not what I was—” Again, Frank cut him off. 

“I _know_ it’s not what you were trying to do. It’s okay though—I won’t hold it against you.” Gerard groaned softly and looked away again.

“ _Frank,_ ” Gerard barked out. His tone was harsher than Frank was used to hearing from him. “I only ever went with two guys, and they weren’t…trust me, they weren’t pussies.” 

Frank tried to understand the words, but he just got more confused. 

“But you said they didn’t want that with you,” Frank said, trying to sort out his thoughts. 

“Yeah…” Gerard looked towards the wall and didn’t add more.

“So…what then? You’re not a virgin?” Frank just couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see Gerard being with anyone. He refused to believe that—it wasn’t something he could comprehend. 

“I don’t—I don’t know!” Gerard cried out, shaking his head and staring at the wall with great intensity.

“How do you _not_ know?” Frank asked. In his mind he was piecing together explanations. He could _maybe_ see Gerard trying to give someone a handjob, so maybe that was why Gerard was confused—because he didn’t know if that qualified as sex or not. 

There was just _no way_ he could see shy little Gerard letting a guy have everything.

“I don’t know!” Gerard cried, covering his face and starting to shake. He looked like he might cry.

Frank sighed and started chewing his lower lip. He hadn’t meant to upset him…

“I’m sorry,” Frank said, going to Gerard and rubbing his shoulder gently. “It’s none of my business. I’m sorry…” Gerard didn’t lift his head from his hands and Frank sighed again. “I didn’t mean to make you sad—don’t be upset. I’m stupid, I don’t know when I push things too far until it’s too late. Just tell me to shut up next time, punch me in the mouth or something.”

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard tried to keep his mind from turning over all of the thoughts that were hitting him. Was he really going to sit in silence and not let Frank know that he was wrong? Was he really going to let Frank continue to believe that he was undamaged? That he’d never had that “special” first time?

He didn’t want to lie to Frank, but he couldn’t get the words out. What was he supposed to say? He didn’t want Frank to think he was a whore, but he didn’t want to relive the truth by telling Frank all about it.

Though when he let his mind wander as he tried to calm himself down, he began to think that maybe he _was_ , in some respect, still a virgin.

There was a thing called secondary-virginity, right? For people who made mistakes or had bad things happen…

So maybe it wasn’t so deceitful of him to just stay quiet and let Frank believe as he wished.


	7. Bitter

Frank ran his hands up Gerard’s sides and leant down to give him a kiss. They were lying in Gerard’s bed, Gerard being uncharacteristically bold and trusting and Frank loving every second of it. He knew that if he pushed too far Gerard would shut down, so he kept himself under control and didn’t touch anywhere that might set his innocent boyfriend off. It would be too easy for Gerard to get scared with Frank looming over top of him in the position of power.

As it was, Gerard was kissing back softly and would occasionally run his fingers through Frank’s hair or rub his back. It wasn’t normal for Gerard to be so loving or to let his guard drop, he was even letting Frank look him in the eye. 

For Frank, it was absolutely wonderful—if he ignored the way Gerard would freeze at every sound, look up every time he heard a footstep, and try to pull away whenever he’d hear one of his parents’ voice.

Next time when he wanted to try anything, he’d make sure they were at his house and not Gerard’s. It was obviously too distracting for him with his non-supportive family crawling around upstairs.

Not that Frank was going to try anything major in such an unromantic setting. He was going to make sure that his innocent baby’s first time was in a place where he’d actually feel comfortable and where there was no threat of interruption.

“You have really pretty eyes,” Frank hummed, taking a break from kissing and just looking down at his boyfriend who kept making and breaking eye contact. He had one hand supporting his head, his elbow propped on the bed, and the other hand laying on Gerard’s chest.

“Really?” Gerard asked, for once not refusing the compliment. 

“Yeah,” Frank said, slowly caressing Gerard’s cheek. Gerard smiled softly and then turned his face away shyly. It finally felt like they were making progress. Gerard wasn’t trembling at every touch or shying away from every kiss. He was happy, and he felt like Gerard might be happy too, and it made him glad that he hadn’t given up on the other boy due to his bi-polar antics.

“Frank?” Gerard asked, his smile suddenly fading and his eyes looking more serious. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah,” Frank answered, stroking Gerard’s cheek one last time before letting his hand rest on the mattress beside Gerard’s body. “What is it?” He pressed when Gerard stared at the wall in silence for a few moments longer.

“How…How long are you willing to wait for me to be ready before…before you make me?” Gerard sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

“Make you?” Frank asked, not sure what Gerard meant at first. And then it hit him. “Gerard, I’m not going to _make_ you do anything.”

“Really,” Gerard mumbled, rolling out from under Frank’s body. “How long are you willing to wait before you give up?”

“I don’t know!” Frank exclaimed, looking at the pillow and then at Gerard’s averted gaze. “Gerard, I’m not going to force you.”

“But you’ll leave me if I don’t give you what you want.” Frank sighed deeply and tried to keep from getting mad. Leave it to Gerard to shatter ever tender moment.

“If we’re dating for more than two years and you still don’t want me to touch you,” Frank said, keeping all hostility out of his voice, “then it’d be obvious that you don’t want me. So, I guess you have two years _at least_ with me before I get impatient.”

“You don’t mean that,” Gerard mumbled.

“Yes I do!” Frank insisted. “I’m not a bully, okay? I’m not some jerk just trying to steal your virtue or make you into another notch on my belt—I _like_ you. I want to _know_ you, not use you.” Gerard stayed quiet for a minute and then rolled onto his back again. He looked up at Frank silently with a curious, searching gaze.

“Really?” He asked, sounding uncertain. 

“ _Really,_ ” Frank insisted, leaning down and kissing Gerard gently on the cheek. The other boy sighed and closed his eyes. “Anything else on your mind?”

“No,” Gerard answered, a little too quickly.

“You sure?” Frank pressed. “Nothing else eating away at your poor brain?” Gerard smiled and shook his head.

“No. That’s it.” Frank moved to kiss down Gerard’s cheek to his neck and throat, stopping when Gerard groaned uncomfortably. 

“Can I ask you something?” Frank asked, moving to just pet Gerard’s hair and smooth it across the pillow. 

“Okay,” Gerard answered, suddenly becoming nervous. He slowly sat up, making Frank sit in front of him on the bed.

“How far have you gone with your other boyfriends?” Frank tried to keep his tone friendly and inviting, hoping that Gerard wouldn’t get scared or offended. It didn’t seem to work though. Gerard bit his lower lip and ducked his head. 

“Other boyfriends?” Gerard whimpered. 

“Gerard, why do you get so scared when I ask? I’m not going to get mad.” Gerard lowered his head further and mumbled a few sounds. “Are you embarrassed?” Gerard looked up for a second and then shrugged. “Okay…so you’re embarrassed about it. Why? I won’t make fun of you.”

“Frank…I don’t ask about your ex’s,” Gerard mumbled.

“You can if you want…I’ve dated like...three guys. One hit me so I beat him up, the other was a cheater—”

“I don’t want to know,” Gerard said softly. 

“Okay,” Frank said, leaning back from him and trying not to feel hurt. “Fine.”

“It’s not that I don’t care, really!” Gerard insisted, meeting Frank’s eye. “I just get…I get weird about ex’s.” He turned his eyes away and sighed. “I get jealous.” 

“Of guys you don’t know?” Gerard shrugged.

“They did things for you that I can’t. There are things about them that they have and I don’t…It makes me feel bad.” Frank decided to let it go. Gerard wasn’t the first jealous boyfriend he’d had.

“Well…I’m not a jealous guy, so you can share with me.”

“Why do you want to know what I’ve done with my boyfriends?” Gerard asked, folding his legs up to his chest.

“So I know what I can do and what’s too far,” Frank answered. “If you’ve never French kissed, for example, I’d like to know.”

“You know I have,” Gerard mumbled.

“Come on, Gerard,” Frank pushed. “I’m just curious.”

“I’ve done…I…”

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard could barely keep the air coming in and out of his lungs. He felt like he was going to pass out. Frank kept pushing, and the more he pushed the more Gerard became aware that he _had_ to answer. He couldn’t avoid the question—Frank wouldn’t let it drop.

“I’ve done…I…” Gerard swallowed hard and tried to keep the emotions bubbling in his chest contained. “Frank,” Gerard pleaded, hoping Frank would just say ‘never mind, I’ll mind my own business’ like he did the last time.

“Gerard, you _are_ a virgin right? Like you told me?” Gerard looked away and forced the air to go into his lungs, but he couldn’t get it leave. He was stuck holding his breath and praying that he’d pass out, praying that his parents would call him or come downstairs for some reason. “You didn’t lie?”

“I…I never _said_ I was. Y-You said that…” Gerard started shaking, but tried to hide it so Frank wouldn’t get mad.

“So are you, or are you not?” Frank asked, looking desperate. Gerard felt his heart sink and tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about Alex, tried to think about ‘secondary-virginity’ and how understanding Frank would be.

“I…I’m…” Gerard sighed and looked Frank in the eye; he wanted Frank to know he wasn’t lying. “I don’t know, Frank.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” Frank said, throwing his arms up in a dismissing gesture. 

_Just tell him,_ Gerard screamed at himself. _Just tell him what happened to you. He can’t be mad if your boyfriend date-raped you._ But it wasn’t date-rape. He’d _made_ Alex do it, he’d driven Alex to resort to it.

He was afraid that telling Frank what happened would just encourage Frank to do the same.

“You’re not, are you,” Frank said. He sounded really disappointed and it made Gerard’s heart break. He always knew he wasn’t good enough for Frank. “Well…I guess it’s not that big of a deal. I just wish you would’ve told me.”

Gerard wrapped his arms around his knees and sniffed. What was he supposed to say now? He could tell Frank what happened, but there was no way he could explain it without sounding like he was trying to get pity.

He knew he shouldn’t have let Frank close—he _knew_ he couldn’t pull off another relationship. He belonged on his own.

“So then…Why do you keep saying that you ‘don’t know’?” Frank asked, reaching out and touching Gerard’s hand. “Gerard, did something happen to you?” Gerard shook his head quickly, willing the conversation to be over before more damage could be done. “Gee?”

“It just…” Gerard tried to meet Frank’s eyes but couldn’t do it. He couldn’t explain to Frank what happened. He didn’t have the words for it and, honestly, he didn’t trust Frank enough. Why would he tell such a private thing to a stranger? Why would he tell Frank—a kid he barely knew—something he couldn’t even tell Mikey or his parents?

“So you’ve done all of this before?” Frank asked, scooting closer as if he wasn’t disgusted by the fact that Gerard was completely used up and damaged. As if he wasn’t _pissed_ at Gerard for not giving him the same things he’d given his other boyfriends.

“I guess,” Gerard mumbled.

“So why are you shy?”

“Just because I’ve done it doesn’t mean I’m good at it,” Gerard answered mechanically. He turned his face away and leaned his head back against the wall tiredly. 

“Is that what happened? Your boyfriends told you that you suck in bed?” Gerard rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “And then lit you on fire?”

“Stop!” Gerard shouted. “Stop! Just stop it, okay!? It’s none of your business!” Frank recoiled, but Gerard didn’t give himself time to feel bad. “Stop asking me—I don’t want to talk about it! You _know_ I don’t want to talk about it, so just leave it be!”

“Fine!” Frank exclaimed, tossing his arms up. “Forget I asked—God forbid I try to figure something out about you! God forbid I try to play the part of a boyfriend who wants to know why the fuck you get scared every time I kiss you! God forbid I fucking give a _shit_ about you!”

Gerard gasped and looked towards the ceiling. Frank couldn’t talk like that in his home—his dad couldn’t hear. 

“Frank!” Gerard called in a harsh whisper.

“ _What!?_ ”

“I _told_ you, you can’t say things like that here.”

“God forbid your mom and dad don’t support you—I’m not going to act like _we_ don’t exist!”

“They don’t _know_ , Frank!” Gerard said desperately, hoping Frank would calm down. Frank’s face went blank, but he seemed pissed. Immediately, Gerard backed further against the wall and crossed his already retracted legs for added protection.

“So I’m your fucking dirty-little-secret,” Frank said.

“No—Frank, please don’t see it like that! I—”

“It’s always something with you,” Frank said, getting up from the bed and stepping into his shoes. Gerard uncrossed his legs and reached out for Frank’s arm, knowing he had nothing to say but not wanting Frank to leave. Frank just pulled away. “Maybe when you grow up, and face the fact that you’re gay, we’ll make something work. But right now, I’ve had enough.”

“Frank, please!” Gerard insisted, getting to his feet and snagging the other boy’s arm. 

“Stop,” Frank said firmly, pulling his hand away. “You’re being pathetic.”

“Don’t leave,” Gerard pleaded. This couldn’t happen—he couldn’t have this happen. He really _liked_ Frank, he didn’t want them to be over so fast. He didn’t want to let his fear destroy his last home for happiness. 

“Why not?” Frank said, pushing Gerard away every time he tried to reach him. “You don’t talk to me. You like trying to be this mysterious guy, and you like being this pitiful crybaby, too—and I don’t like guys like that. So I think we’re done.” Gerard finally quit trying to reach him and stared at him hurt.

“I can…change,” Gerard attempted. He hated to admit it, but he liked having someone else close. He liked being able to lean on someone and hide behind them when things took a bad turn. Someone tough and possibly harmless…someone like Frank was just what he needed to stay alive.

“No, you can’t,” Frank said, rolling his eyes and moving towards the stairs to the main floor of the house. Gerard blocked him. “Stop. I’m mad at you right now. Let me leave.”

“What can I do?” Gerard asked. “Please, let me fix it.” Frank looked away and rubbed his eyebrow anxiously—he looked like he might be considering changing his mind. “I’ll tell you what happened with Alex, I’ll come out to my parents _right now_ if you want—please, just give me another chance.” Frank sighed and let his hand fall to his sides.

“Fine,” he said, shaking his head. Gerard felt himself fill with both dread and relief. He really was that desperate for companionship. So desperate he was willing to share his secret with a stranger and possibly even destroy his home life before he could move out and hide from the bad reaction. “ _Last_ chance.”

“Thank you,” Gerard whispered, giving himself up. He was Frank’s property now, wasn’t he? He had to do what Frank said or Frank would leave him…

Or maybe he was doing something much worse. Maybe he was driving Frank to do what his last boyfriend had done—forcing him to stay in a relationship he didn’t want until he lashed out in the only way he could to get Gerard to leave him for good.

“So…what happened with Alex?” Frank asked, sitting back down on the bed heavily and meeting Gerard’s eyes. Gerard felt like crying, but was afraid that if a single tear fell, Frank would storm out.

“We dated for a year,” Gerard started, swallowing hard against the lump rising in his throat. “I was only fourteen and I thought he really cared about me.” Gerard felt his legs start shaking and thought it best to sit down. He thought to sit beside Frank, but decided against it. If Frank could reach him, Frank would hurt him. It was best to keep his distance, even if he had to try hard to keep from falling to his knees. “He really wanted to…to try, but I kept getting scared so…one night at a party I agreed, just to make him happy and so he wouldn’t leave me.”

“Did he hurt you?” Frank asked when Gerard fell silent. Gerard stood frozen for a moment and then slowly nodded, closing his eyes against the pain from his memories. He remembered it so vividly—waking up nauseous and in pain, scared that someone else had raped him while he’d been asleep only to discover that it had been the one person he trusted most. He could feel the shooting pains in his chest, just at the memory of his first love calling him a cocktease, and telling him that he’d been asking for it. Asking to be hurt—deserving the agony.

Gerard rubbed his throat gently, remembering the way Alex had choked him to keep him still long enough to get it in a second time. And he had bled that time, and he had begged Alex to stop. Begged, pleaded, wept—and got nothing. Alex didn’t love him anymore—and probably never had.

“What happened?” Frank asked. “Come here.” Frank got up and guided Gerard over to the bed. Gerard barely even noticed as he slowly sat down with his boyfriend holding his hand and caressing it. “What did he do to you at the party?”

Gerard’s lower lip began to tremble and he bit it to make it stop. He was afraid that if he cried, Frank would leave. He didn’t want to look pathetic. But Gerard knew if he opened his mouth he’d lose his composure and the tears would start coming.

“Gerard? You can tell me.”

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank felt like an ass. He _was_ an ass. He knew where this was going and it made him want to stick his head in a blender. 

Gerard was going to say that his boyfriend got him drunk and raped him—raped him when he was fourteen, just a young and impressionable kid. And if he hadn’t come out to his parents yet, that meant they didn’t know about it. That meant he probably hadn’t told _anyone_ and had been suffering—trying to cope—all alone.

“It’s okay,” Frank said, rubbing Gerard’s shoulder gently. Gerard sniffed and as soon as he started to force out a sound tears started rolling down his cheeks. Tears he ashamedly tried to wipe away. The one time Gerard tried to act tough was the one time Frank wouldn’t hold it against him for being weak. “You don’t have to hold back—you can cry.”

“Alex said to wait in the bedroom and he’d get me a drink,” Gerard choked out. “And he spiked it.” At least, Frank thought, Gerard hadn’t been awake for it. But if that were the case…he didn’t really need to cry so hard about it, did he? 

Frank felt bad for even thinking he had the right to judge Gerard’s emotional response. It still had to have hurt when he woke up. 

“Were you okay?” Frank asked softly. “When you woke up?” Gerard shook his head and covered his face with his hands. Somewhere in between sobs and failed attempts to get himself under control, Gerard managed to say that he’d been raped twice. 

“He said I made him do it,” Gerard sobbed, becoming more and more hysteric. “I made him do it—I made him do it!”

“Gerard, that is _not_ true,” Frank said, heavily rubbing Gerard’s shoulder and stroking his arm.

“But, Frank—” Gerard started, wiping away his tears frantically, so afraid that Frank was going to get mad at the sight of them and leave.

“ _No,_ ” Frank said firmly. “No, Gerard. No. That guy was a douche—if he couldn’t wait then he should’ve broken up with you and dated a slut. You _know_ it wasn’t your fault.” The words Frank thought might offer comfort, just made it worse.

“But, Frank, I could’ve done something—I could’ve stopped him. I should’ve screamed or…or hit him. I could have never gotten with him in the first place—I _knew_ he was too old for me!”

“You were a _kid,_ ” Frank insisted, squeezing one of Gerard’s damp hands. “You trusted him, you didn’t know any better. He took advantage of you. Gerard, it wasn’t your fault for any of it. There was _nothing_ you could do.” Gerard sniffed and shook his head, not so much dismissing the words but having trouble believing them. “But…I get why you answered my questions the way you did now. Gerard, you’re…”

“Not a virgin like you wanted,” Gerard said, lowering his head.

“Yeah you are,” Frank mumbled. “You’ve never done it and had that _connection_ with anyone before. And that’s what I want—I want to have that connection with you. It’d…It’d really be an honor to be the first guy you have that connection with, and I’d never force it on you if you never want to feel that way about me.” Gerard made a quiet sound and let Frank meet his gaze.

“If I come out to my parents…can I leave that part out? I don’t want them to know,” Gerard said, sniffing and wiping his nose on the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” Frank said quickly. “I can’t make you tell them that. And…if you don’t come out yet, I won’t break up with you. That’s…that’s stupid. It’s none of their business anyway. It’s your life.” Frank lowered his gaze, but could feel Gerard’s eyes staring into him. “I’m sorry I got mad at you. I don’t care if I’m your secret or not, as long as I’m something to you.”

“How am I supposed to tell them?” Gerard asked quietly. “My dad…”

“Do you think that he’s homophobic?” Frank asked, rubbing Gerard’s back lightly. 

“Not about other people but…I’m his _son._ It’s different if it’s me.”

“What’s your biggest fear?” Frank asked, holding one of Gerard’s hands between both of his. “Do you think he’ll hurt you?” Instantly, Gerard shook his head.

“I told you before, Frank,” Gerard said desperately. “My dad isn’t abusive.”

“But you’re _scared_ of him.”

“Who _isn’t_ scared of their dad!?” Gerard asked harshly. “I don’t want to disappoint him, and I _know_ this will! He always talks—” Gerard’s voice cracked and his tears started again. “—he always talks about me and girls. He wants me with a girl—he wants grandkids and…and things I don’t want. I know what it feels like to have someone disappoint you, and I don’t want to do that to my mom and dad.”

“Look, Gerard, I felt the same way—I didn’t want my mom to blame herself or get upset with me. But I couldn’t take living a lie. She’s my mom. Even if it takes forever, eventually I knew she’d accept it.” Gerard lowered his eyes and sniffed. “And my dad…I think he knew all along.”

“How did you get expelled?” Gerard asked suddenly. Frank stiffened, wondering how the question worked its way into Gerard’s mind.

“What?” Frank said, just to buy himself more time. How could he get out of explaining that? Get out of bringing more terror into Gerard’s already exhausted mind.

“How did you get expelled from your Catholic school?” Gerard asked again. “Was it because they found out about you?” Frank shrugged, and thought about using the same lying tactics that Gerard always did. 

He could say, yes, he was expelled because they found out about him—and then never explain that they didn’t find out that he was gay, they found out about him _spying on boys in the locker room._

But he didn’t want to build a relationship on lies.

“Gerard, I got expelled for…” Frank’s words left him and he could only open and close his mouth silently. The words were there, but he was suddenly afraid to say them. If he said how he’d gotten expelled, Gerard was going _know_ to ask if he was doing it at their school. And Frank couldn’t lie—he couldn’t say ‘no, Gerard, I haven’t spied on anyone changing at our school’ because Gerard wasn’t stupid. Gerard would know.

Gerard would leave him. He’d be stupid not to. And Gerard would probably be devastated and wonder _why_ every boyfriend he’d ever had turned out to be a fucking, perverted creep.

Sighing sadly and turning his face away, Frank prepared to speak.

“I got expelled for spying,” Frank forced out, biting his lips and hoping he could end it there. That was enough, right? Gerard would be happy with that, right? 

“Spying?” Gerard said quietly. Frank nodded. “Spying on…girls changing?” Gerard asked, trying to get Frank to look at him. Frank kept his face hidden, almost wanting to turn his back to the other boy.

“Not…Not girls,” Frank said, sighing heavily and suddenly feeling his eyes start to burn. He was going to cry—and he really didn’t want to. 

“Oh…” That was all Gerard said. ‘Oh.’ Nothing else.

It took Frank a minute to compose himself enough to take a look at his boyfriend’s face. Gerard looked empty.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said, not sure why he was apologizing, but feeling like it was mandatory.

“You said it was something you were still working on—that’s why you wouldn’t tell me the last time I asked.” Frank closed his eyes tightly and tried not to cower the way Gerard always did. 

So this was what it felt like to be Gerard—terrified every second that someone was going to figure out his secrets and judge him and reject him. No wonder he shook all the time, and stammered, and _cried_ , and dodged questions—he lived in terror. 

“What class do you have before lunch?” Gerard asked, crossing his arms over his chest protectively and hunching into himself. Frank exhaled shakily.

“Study hall,” Frank said, trying to sound natural. 

“Frank,” Gerard said, sounding absolutely terrified. Frank chanced another glance of his face and saw Gerard looking at him in complete and utter fear. Frank knew he was caught.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, looking Gerard in the eye as he said it and finding himself closer to tears than before. Gerard’s eyes got wider and Frank looked away, unable to handle them. 

“What did you do to me after the party when I passed out?” Gerard asked, his body going rigid. 

“What?” Frank asked, his brain moving too slowly to form an appropriate reaction.

“Oh, God,” Gerard moaned, covering his mouth with his hand.

“No!” Frank said quickly. “No, Gerard—I didn’t touch you. I _didn’t._ ” Gerard looked at him with worried eyes, scared and uncertain. “I spy—I won’t lie to you. I spied on you changing clothes almost every day when you changed for gym. But I wouldn’t take advantage of you. I’m fucked up, but I’m not _that_ bad.” Gerard stared at him in silence. “I told you, I want to have that _connection_ with you. I couldn’t have that if I touched you without your permission.” 

“Fine,” Gerard said quickly. “But can you _not_ do that anymore?” Gerard asked in a voice that was firm but still shook. “Frank, I won’t hold it against you because you don’t hold what Alex did against me—but don’t watch me again. There’s nothing to see—and I don’t want you looking at _them_ if you’re with _me_.” Frank nodded quickly—not sure if he meant that he’d give up his addiction to voyeurism or if he was just eager to get out of the fire. 

“I stopped looking at them the first week you were here,” Frank said, hoping to somehow compliment his boyfriend, even if he knew Gerard would be too shy—or disturbed—to handle it. “I wanted you.” Gerard shook his head.

“I’m pale and I’m fat,” Gerard said quickly, turning his body away from Frank. “There’s nothing to see.”

“Gerard, you’re not fat,” Frank growled. “And in all honesty, most of the time I was just happy to get to see you for an extra minute each day.”

“Really?” Gerard said in the same tone he’d used when Frank had told him that his eyes were pretty. 

“Yeah…” Frank answered softly.

“What did you see when I was in the locker room?” Gerard asked, peeking at him over his shoulder as his back was still facing Frank. 

“A lot of guys bullying you.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Gerard mumbled, turning his face away. “Please tell me you didn’t get off to them kneeing me in the balls…”

“I did _not_ get off to you being assaulted,” Frank answered, choosing to leave out how attractive he found the little noises Gerard had made in his pain.

“Okay,” Gerard mumbled, turning around so he could face Frank entirely. He looked exhausted. 

“Let’s not do anymore heavy talk today,” Frank said. Gerard nodded.

“You should probably go home,” Gerard said softly. Frank tried not to feel hurt when he agreed and got up from the bed. “I don’t really…want to kiss goodbye,” Gerard added when Frank leaned down towards him.

“I guess I deserve that,” Frank said, backing away from where Gerard sat on the bed. “So…I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday.” Gerard nodded and looked down at the floor. “And…I won’t spy on you.”

“Thank you,” Gerard said, flashing a brief, fake smile. Frank tried not to feel broken when he left to return to his empty home without even a trace of the warmth in his body that he’d had while holding Gerard in his arms not so long ago.

( ) ( ) ( )

Mikey waited until Frank had left and then instantly went down into his brother’s room. He’d been standing by the top of the stairs for over half an hour. Voices had risen and their dad told him to check on Gerard. 

Gerard was damn lucky their dad had told _him_ to do the check-up instead of doing it himself. Mikey could only imagine how much worse this night could have gotten for Gerard if their dad had heard everything _he_ had.

“Gerard,” Mikey said the instant he got into his brother’s line of vision. Gerard jumped but didn’t react as dramatically as he usually did when someone surprised him. He was probably too exhausted for any more surprises.

“Mikey?” Gerard said, swallowing hard. “What’s…what’s the matter?”

“Break up with him,” Mikey said. Gerard stared at him dumbly and shook his head.

“What?”

“Break up with him,” Mikey repeated firmly. “Break up with that freak before he hurts you.”

“No,” Gerard answered, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “Can we not talk about this right now? I don’t know what you heard, but there’s been a mistake.”

“I don’t know what you _didn’t_ hear,” Mikey spat. “He spies on you changing clothes for gym—he’s a creep.”

“He said he’d stop, okay? I’m gonna give him a chance.”

“Why?” Mikey asked, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Why wouldn’t I? At least he _told_ me about it. He didn’t hide it—I can trust him.”

“Yeah,” Mikey said sharply. “At least he told you after hiding it from you for a month.” Mikey stared Gerard in the eyes and let the meaning of his words sink in. “I mean, it only has been a month, right? It would be pretty devastating if he’d been your—your fucking friend for his entire life, and you found out that he was hiding it from you for two goddamned years.”

Gerard stared at him in silence, his eyes filling with sadness and hurt. For what had to be the millionth time, Mikey felt no pity for him. He was mad. How could Gerard tell this stranger something he wouldn’t even share with his own brother? 

Mikey had a goddamned _right_ to feel betrayed. He had a right to feel nothing close to pity for his brother or his tragedies. 

“It’s been more than a month,” Gerard chose to say, looking away and dodging the real issue.

“Yeah,” Mikey said, trying not to let his own hurt make its way into his voice. “And he knows you better than I do.” Gerard bit his lower lip and stared at the floor. “Why didn’t you tell me what happened with Alex?” Mikey asked when the silence became too much. 

Gerard said nothing, just played with his hands in his lap and let his hair hide his face. 

“I would’ve helped you—you know that. You _knew_ that.”

“You were just a kid!” Gerard shouted, hunching his shoulders around himself defensively.

“And so were you!” Gerard exhaled angrily and Mikey had to fight to keep from going into a rage. He understood that Gerard had been hurt, he knew how devastated and depressed Gerard had been after leaving Alex. He wasn’t asking why Gerard hadn’t come home that day and told him what happened—he just wanted to know why Frank, this strange kid he barely knew, was the one that Gerard told first.

He wanted to know why Gerard trusted Frank more than him.

“Mikey, I didn’t want to tell him what happened—he _made_ me.”

“No he didn’t,” Mikey said. “You could have let him leave. You don’t need to be with someone—”

“Don’t tell me what I need!” Gerard shouted.

“You _don’t_ need to be with someone who threatens to leave you every time he hits a barrier!”

“Shut up!” Gerard spat, getting to his feet and standing with his face close to Mikey’s. “It’s not any of your business.”

“He’s just going to hurt you!” Mikey shouted. “He’s a _liar!_ You know it!”

“He is not!”

“Yes he is! He always pushes you, Gerard. He _always_ gets you to do what you don’t want to. He wants you to talk, all he has to do is threaten to leave you. He’s got you on a string.”

“Fuck you,” Gerard hissed, looking away. 

“He tells you, Gerard, that he’s going to be patient with you, but as soon as you don’t give him what he wants, he runs to the door and you chase him. You think it’s going to be any different with coming out to Mom and Dad? You really think he’s going to let you get away with saying nothing?”

“He…” For once, Gerard was speechless, grappling for words but unable to find them.

“You know next week he’s going to ask when you plan to tell them. And when you say ‘I don’t know’ like you always do, he’s going to bully you into it—because that’s the kind of person he is.” Gerard lowered his head in defeat and turned his eyes towards the wall. “You know that’s true.”

“I know,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Do you really think sex is going to be any different?” Gerard shrunk into himself even further and Mikey finally did begin to feel bad. After the words left his mouth, he suddenly felt like things might have been better had their father heard Gerard and Frank talking…because their father wouldn’t have begun yelling, he wouldn’t have made it personal.

“Maybe,” Gerard said. He sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand as he turned away and sat down on his bed with his back to Mikey. “He said he’d wait—he _meant_ it. He understands why I can’t yet.”

Mikey felt like he should apologize, but he didn’t want to. 

“However it turns out, just let me be there for you this time. I’m not going to let you down.”

“Can I be alone now?” Gerard said quickly. Mikey nodded, even though Gerard couldn’t see, and sighed. 

“Okay.” He went up the stairs and found his father leaving the living room, heading in his direction.

“What the hell’s going on down there? Everyone’s yelling.” His dad asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mikey answered, blocking his dad when he started towards the stairs to Gerard’s room.

“No, I want to check on him.”

“Don’t,” Mikey said, stepping in front of him when he tried to go around him. “Really.”

“Why? Is he upset?—What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Mikey argued. “He wants to be alone.” His father looked him over suspiciously and Mikey kept his face blank.

“Gerard?” Their dad called. Mikey rolled his eyes and waited for it.

“What!?” Gerard screamed back, his tears and stress more than audible.

“Like a girl. Jesus,” their father said quietly so Gerard couldn’t hear. Mikey raised his eyebrow—unable to block out the thought that said ‘you don’t even know the half of it.’ “Just making sure you’re still home,” their dad called. Gerard made a loud, scoffing sound, but said nothing else.

Like always, Mikey left for his room feeling awful—feeling like he’d done more harm than good without _any_ justification. Feeling like he understood why Gerard stopped coming to him for support and replaced him with a stranger…


	8. Tell

Gerard couldn’t bring himself to go to gym. He just couldn’t do it…he wouldn’t be able to do it without looking around to make sure no one was spying on him, and that would just make the other boys suspicious. 

So instead he hid in the bathroom. He felt safer there. If he sat on the top of the toilet with his feet on the seat and the door locked, no one knew he was there and no one bothered him…and no one could see him. Watch him. Stalk him…

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank sat in study hall, bored out of his mind and feeling guilty and angry every second. If he hadn’t told Gerard his little secret, he could be watching someone pretty change clothes right now…But if he hadn’t told Gerard he wouldn’t have had anyone to cuddle with after school.

Not that he’d even seen Gerard at school all day. He usually saw him twice in the hall if he moved just right…he wondered if Gerard had skipped, or if he was avoiding him.

The thought of Gerard avoiding him made Frank’s heart sink. He guessed he deserved a little bit of heartache for upsetting Gerard so badly. For forcing Gerard to relive his rape and threatening to leave him if he didn’t come out to his parents. 

Finally, Frank had to accept that he was an asshole. He was determined to make it up to Gerard. 

But he didn’t know how to do that…

He figured he’d have about forty minutes a day to sit in study hall figuring it out.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank almost sighed in relief when he saw Gerard walk slowly into the cafeteria. He was happy to see his boyfriend, hoping that Gerard hadn’t been avoiding him in the halls, and thankful that he hadn’t missed school because he was sick or scared to face him.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Frank asked as soon as Gerard sat down. Gerard seemed taken aback by his enthusiasm, but offered Frank a smile none the less. He passed Ray a nervous smile and then looked towards Mikey who was still moving through the lunch line. 

He ignored Frank’s greeting and question. It left Frank feeling wounded.

As soon as Mikey sat down, the atmosphere changed. Suddenly, Frank began to fear that Mikey knew… Based on the disgusted look that Mikey was giving him, Frank became more certain by the second. 

“How’s it going, Mikey?” Ray asked. “You look pissed off today.” Mikey shrugged and started eating his lunch.

“How about you, Gerard?” Frank tried again. Gerard looked at him, but shrugged instead of answering. Frank lowered his head quickly and almost felt like crying. Gerard was giving him the silent treatment after Frank had forced him to talk when he didn’t want to…Frank understood.

So he sat in silence as Mikey, Gerard, and Ray engaged in conversation. It was painful, and Frank didn’t like it. It was childish, and mean… He wanted to get up from the table and just go stand by his locker until the bell rang for his next class.

He’d been hoping that Gerard might be willing to come over to his house after school to hang out, but now he didn’t even feel like it would be worth his effort to ask. Gerard would just say no…or shake his head in silence.

That was just fine, Frank thought bitterly. If Gerard was going to give him the silent treatment, Frank could do the same. Gerard would break before he would. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard felt bad when Frank no less than ran past him at the end of the day, leaving school without even bothering to say good bye. He couldn’t blame him though… He saw how upset Frank had gotten during lunch when he didn’t talk to him. 

Who was he trying to fool? He couldn’t act on his hurt feelings without feeling guilt later. That was why he slowly started walking towards Frank’s house instead of his own. He had to apologize…

He was surprised that he was able to catch up with Frank who was no longer running, but chose to stay silent until he reached his side—afraid that Frank would run away and hide somewhere that wasn’t his house.

“Frank,” Gerard said softly.

“What? You’re done not talking to me now?” Frank snapped back. Gerard made a quiet sound and tried to get Frank to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” Gerard muttered. 

“What do you want?” Frank asked angrily. Gerard lowered his gaze and walked quietly at Frank’s side. 

“Did I make you that mad?” Gerard asked. 

“What do you _think?_ ” Frank snapped. “I leave your house thinking we’re still on good terms, then I wait to see you all day and you give me the cold shoulder. That was _mean._ ”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said again.

“Whatever,” Frank said. “You’re a jerk.”

“But I came to apologize!” Gerard attempted. “I don’t want you mad at me…”

“Whatever,” Frank muttered, continuing down the street. Gerard followed him sadly, regretting having let his emotions run away with him. Frank knew his secret, after all, he couldn’t let them break up now.

“Can I make it up to you?” Gerard continued, following Frank to the front porch of his house.

“You can go home,” Frank snapped. Gerard looked at him sadly, somehow feeling that it would help. “I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch—maybe.” Gerard bit his lip and watched Frank enter his house and slam the door behind him.

He really didn’t want to walk home alone, but he guessed he had no choice. He really couldn’t hold his own in a fight without feeling guilty and breaking down.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank felt sad. He had no other word to describe the abysmal feeling in his chest—and sad worked. It wasn’t exactly betrayal he was feeling when Gerard missed school the next day, but it might have been something close. 

But sad worked. 

His boyfriend didn’t want to see him, and it made him sad.

He wanted to have a boyfriend so he could cuddle someone on the weekends when his mom was off with her boyfriend and he was left home alone. He wanted to have a boyfriend because he wanted to have someone to spend his time with. He wanted a boyfriend because he was lonely—and he’d hoped his boyfriend had wanted him for the same reasons.

Frank never expected Gerard to be more independent than him…to be less _needy_ than he was. Gerard was in need, but Frank was the desperate, needy one when the day came to an end.

And since he was the one in need, Frank went crawling to Gerard’s house prepared to throw himself at the other boy’s feet. He had to apologize for being mean to him—Gerard was a victim of pain Frank knew nothing of. He deserved kindness and patience, and Frank had to learn to give those things.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Gerard’s sad face—the nervous, hurting gaze he had given Frank as his apologies fell on deaf ears. Frank never wanted to see that face again, so _he_ had to apologize now. He had to make things right.

Frank stepped up to the front door of Gerard’s house, suddenly feeling a pang of terror hit him just as he knocked. What if Mikey answered the door? What if Mikey—who had refused to even look at Frank during lunch—saw him standing at the door and just refused to answer?

But that fear was quickly erased as Mikey opened the door looking fatigued and annoyed.

“You know, you could’ve just walked home with me and I wouldn’t have had to come all the way back downstairs to let you in,” Mikey said as he stared Frank straight in the eye.

“I’m…sorry,” Frank said, guessing that he needed to get used to apologizing. “I’m here to see Gerard?” It came out as a question even though he wasn’t really asking permission.

“Yeah, he’s ‘sick’ today,” Mikey said, adding air-quotes. “So he’s lying in his bed.” Mikey moved back from the doorway to let Frank in.

“I won’t stay long,” Frank said, trying to show Mikey that he had some respect for Gerard’s fake illness. He knew Gerard didn’t want to see him, just as he knew Mikey didn’t trust him in their house.

“Whatever,” Mikey said, shutting the door. “He’s in his room.”

Frank watched Mikey walk off and then started towards the stairs down to Gerard’s bedroom. The first sound he heard was paper tearing, but that noise stopped abruptly when Frank stepped on a particularly loud stair.

“Mikey?” Gerard called tentatively. 

“No—uh—it’s me. Frank.” Frank tried to listen for any negative sounds—a deep sigh, a groan or a growl—but heard nothing. He continued down the stairs and stood at the base of them in Gerard’s bedroom. 

Gerard was sitting at his desk, sketching in a drawing book with crumpled inspirations laying all around the legs of his chair.

“Sorry I missed school,” Gerard mumbled. “I didn’t want to go.”

“I can see that you’ve been busy,” Frank said. He didn’t want to make small talk, but he was afraid of pouring his heart out right away.

“I’ll be at school tomorrow, if that’s what you came over to ask. Dad says I can’t skip twice.”

“I came over to see if you were okay,” Frank said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. I felt really bad after you left. You had a right to be mad at me, I didn’t have an excuse to yell at you.” Gerard sat in silence for a moment and then began to sketch again.

“It’s okay,” Gerard said, too quietly.

“Not it’s not,” Frank said. He walked over to Gerard’s desk, unintentionally making Gerard slam the book closed. “I’m sorry. I won’t blow up at you like that again for stupid shit. I don’t want to behave like a stupid kid—and that’s what I acted like, and you really deserve better.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Gerard asked, turning around to look at Frank worriedly.

“No,” Frank stammered. “No—do…do you want to break up with me?”

“No,” Gerard answered. “I just don’t want to go to school anymore.”

“Is it because of me?” Frank asked, trying to think of any other problem Gerard could have. The bullying didn’t seem to have extended outside of the gym locker room yet, but Frank only saw him twice a day and Gerard had a tendency to keep his issues drawn.

“No…” Gerard mumbled. He didn’t sound confident in his answer. “I was going to come out tonight to my mom and dad…I wanted to prepare, but I can’t do it. I’m scared of what my dad’s going to think.”

“Okay,” Frank said, sitting down on Gerard’s bed slowly. “Do you want me to help you?”

“I don’t want you to be there,” Gerard said, putting on a smile. “You’ll get mad at my dad, I know you. You’ll try to beat him up or something.”

“I might,” Frank said, forcing out a laugh. “Do you want my help formulating what you’re gonna say?” Instantly, Gerard started nodding.

“Like…I don’t want it to be a giant, gather everyone in the living, ‘I have an announcement’ kind of thing. That’s too awkward for me. I’d back out. I need to just… _say it._ But I can’t just look up from my plate at dinner and say ‘yeah, Mom, this lasagna’s great—I’m gay.’”

“Yeah, you can’t do that,” Frank said, giving Gerard a smile. “I just let my mom catch me with my boyfriend, but—”

“No, I don’t want that,” Gerard interjected.

“That’s not you,” Frank commented. “Um…maybe you or Mikey could set up a conversation about dating, and then you can bring it up.”

“I guess,” Gerard mumbled. “But what would I say? Dad thinks I’ve had girlfriends instead of boyfriends…”

“Get him to ask about them and say that they weren’t girls.”

“He won’t believe me!” Gerard said anxiously.

“Okay…so maybe, uh…Tell them what really happened to your arm.” Gerard shook his head and rubbed his left arm gently.

“No. That’ll give him an excuse to say I shouldn’t be gay because I date assholes. And I’m _not_ telling them about Alex…”

“That’s fine,” Frank said quickly. “I hope that someday you can tell them, but I don’t want you to rush it if it’s just going to upset you more.”

“I don’t want Dad to make fun of me,” Gerard said, his head lowering as if ashamed.

“Make fun of you for being raped?” Frank asked. Did he really think his dad was that cruel? Or that _dumb?_

“For trusting an older guy,” Gerard said quietly. “And I don’t want to tell them about my arm because I don’t want them to freak out at me for hiding so much—or to say that if I just told them things, the bad things wouldn’t happen.”

“If your parents make fun of you, please tell me so I can kill them,” Frank said, trying to lighten the mood when he noticed that Gerard’s eyes were getting teary.

“Mikey might beat you to it,” Gerard said with a small, fragile smile.

“Yeah,” Frank said, refocusing on the current issue. “But if you don’t want it to be a big announcement, you’re going to have to bring it up in another conversation.”

“It’s not hard to get my dad talking about me and girls…so I could say something that would let him start talking about that and then…correct him.”

“That would work,” Frank said positively. Gerard nodded but then lowered his head quickly. “What’s the matter?” Gerard exhaled shakily and lifted his head, flipping his hair out of his eyes.

“What do I do when asks me if I’ve had sex? I know he’ll ask it…and I don’t want to talk about Alex, and I don’t want to lie either.” Frank sunk his teeth into his lip because that was a good question…and his dad was going to ask—it had been Frank’s mom’s first question after she found out. Was he having sex? Yes. Was he being _safe?_ Yes. After that, she had no problems…

“Well…when you were with Alex, I know you don’t remember—and don’t _want_ to—did he use a condom? Was it safe?” Gerard stiffened, but Frank could tell that he was trying to remember without _remembering._

“I don’t…I…No,” he said in despair, covering his face with his hands.

“Gerard, you could _have_ something,” Frank said, not thinking of himself, but worrying for his boyfriend.

“I don’t care!” Gerard cried. When he lowered his hands, Frank could see the smudged tears on his cheeks and sighed. “He was clean—I know he was. He did it that way because _I_ was clean and he knew it…and he wanted me to suffer. Right after he was done he sent me home—I couldn’t even take a shower first, and I had to walk.” Frank hadn’t meant to force Gerard to remember more of that awful experience, and he knew how much it hurt Gerard to talk about it.

“Come here,” Frank said, watching Gerard crumble into emotional ruin. “I want to give you a hug.” Gerard got up from his desk and was in Frank’s arms faster than Frank had expected. Frank was glad to hold him close and be there to offer him comfort. 

“What do I say when they ask?” Gerard asked again. Frank petted his hair as he thought of an answer that wouldn’t raise more questions. 

“Tell them…that right now you’re not looking for that.”

“Dad won’t believe that,” Gerard muttered against Frank’s chest. “Especially not when he finds out about you.”

“Maybe he’ll ask if you’ve got a boyfriend first, and then ask if you’re sleeping with me. You can say no.” Gerard nodded and tightened his hold around Frank’s shoulders. “If he asks if you have before…”

“I’m going to have to tell him,” Gerard said softly. Frank held him a little tighter and stroked his hair firmly.

“I’ll be there if you want, Gerard,” Frank said. “You can call me, or I can come over—or _you_ can come over. I don’t want you to feel alone if it goes wrong.”

“What if they won’t let me see you anymore?” Gerard asked, pulling away from the embrace. 

“I’ll come over after school and leave before they get home from work.” Gerard nodded. “I won’t leave you if you they aren’t supportive.”

“Okay,” Gerard muttered. “But…I don’t know what to say to them. I’m really worried. If they…if they get mad—”

“It’s your life, not theirs,” Frank said.

“Yeah, but they’re my _parents!_ I _need_ them to support me…and it kills me to think that they won’t. I _need_ them.” Frank worried for him. He didn’t want to see Gerard in any more pain, and he didn’t want his support system to turn its back on him.

“They’ll understand, Gerard,” Frank said softly. He wasn’t sure that he was telling the truth, but he was incapable of saying anything that might make Gerard sad. He wanted his boyfriend to feel confident and empowered—he wanted Gerard to feel secure.

He needed to feel safe…

“Okay,” Gerard mumbled, leaning over and kissing Frank softly. Frank had to resist the urge to pull Gerard close again and kiss him deeper. Gerard didn’t need over the top affection—he needed held and comforted in a nearly platonic way.

“Anything you need, just let me know, okay?” Frank said, kissing Gerard’s cheek and wrapping him up in another hug. Gerard sighed softly and nuzzled Frank’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Gerard muttered so quietly that Frank almost didn’t hear him. Frank held Gerard a little tighter and rubbed his back soothingly.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, hoping his words were true.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard was so nervous at dinner that his body was literally shaking. He could barely hold up his fork, and he gave up trying to drink from his cup. The behavior was obvious, and he knew his parents picked up on it. It was only a matter of time before…

“You must really be sick,” his father said. “You’re shaking pretty bad—I thought you were faking sick this morning.” Gerard couldn’t think of a word to say, so he just struggled with taking another bite of food. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Gerard answered, swallowing his food hard. He didn’t know how the conversation was going to start, but he had to make sure that it did—he didn’t think he could handle another night feeling as anxious as he did at that moment.

“You sure?” His father pressed. Gerard nodded.

“Are you cold?” His mother asked. “I can get you a sweater.”

“I’m okay,” Gerard said quickly, exhaling shakily. 

“Why are you shaking so bad?” His mom pressed further. “What’s got you worried?” Gerard guessed that was the best lead into the conversation that he was going to get. 

“Something happen at school?” His dad asked, looking to Mikey for an answer instead of Gerard. Mikey shrugged and leaned back in his seat.

“Depends on what you mean,” Mikey said. Gerard looked at him hopefully, praying that his brother would mold the conversation into the shape he wanted it to be. “Everything seems to be working out fine between him and the new person he’s seeing.” It was almost too blunt, but Gerard was still grateful that he didn’t have to begin the conversation on his own.

“A new girlfriend?—Already!?” Gerard was almost afraid of the pride in his father’s voice.

“Um—it’s not a…” Gerard took a deep breath and tried to steady his voice. “It’s not a…girlfriend,” he managed to say, his body feeling suddenly numb. 

“Ah—not ‘official’ yet, huh?” His dad asked. Gerard saw his mother roll her eyes and wished her indifference could manifest itself in him.

“We’re official…but it’s not a girlfriend,” Gerard stammered. This wasn’t going as he’d planned in his head, but he felt that it was going okay so far. He just wished that it wasn’t Frank who was now the center of their conversation.

“Okay,” his father said, setting down his fork and showing that he was taking the conversation seriously. “What does that mean, Gerard?”

“I…I’ve—I’ve…I’ve never had a girlfriend,” Gerard said, looking immediately down at his plate.

“Yes you have,” his dad argued lightly. “The girl you were seeing from your old school—”

“Was a boy,” Gerard said quickly, all of the feeling rushing back to his body in the form of a thousand tiny sparks at the end of every nerve.

“Oh…” That was all his father could say. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going to lead, or if it was going to end. It didn’t seem to be going badly, but Gerard was still scared—as long as his father said nothing, he was scared.

“You didn’t have to…hide that from us, Gerard. You know that,” his mother said, looking at him until he made eye contact with her and then returning to her meal. “There’s no reason to hide who you are—we’re stuck with you anyway.” Gerard didn’t know whether to feel secure or guilty.

“So…that night you went to that party without telling us and stayed out all night…” His father started. Gerard looked at him nervously.

“I was with Frank,” Gerard said tentatively after nearly a minute of silence. “At the party—I was with Frank, but…we weren’t together.”

“So you’re dating Frank?” His father asked, his tone sounding less than accepting. Gerard was waiting for it, waiting for his father to forbid Frank to be near him again.

“Yes,” Gerard mumbled.  
“That punk who thinks I’m beating you?” His father asked sharply. Gerard recoiled and pressed back against his seat.

“He doesn’t think that,” Gerard argued. “He really doesn’t.”

“We should have him over for dinner,” his mother said, interrupting her husband as he started to speak.

“What I want to know, Gerard,” his father said, ignoring his wife’s comment, “is—you said you got drugged because you drank some girl’s drink at that party. What really happened?”

“That _is_ what really happened!” Gerard said. “Frank didn’t know then, and he left me when the girl tried to dance with me—and she gave me her drink and I drank it, and Frank took me home.”

“To _his_ home.”

“He didn’t do anything!”

“How would you know that? Really, Gerard—you weren’t awake.”

“I _would_ know!” Gerard practically screamed. His father didn’t know about Alex, but to hear Frank be compared to him was horrifying. He didn’t want to see Frank that way—and he didn’t want to think that Frank could be capable of doing what Alex had. “I would _hurt_. Stop talking that way about him.”

“He’s just worried, Gerard,” his mother said softly. “Let him worry about you—you know what’s true.”

“I don’t want him around if he’s hurting my son—if he’s letting him get drugged at parties and not taking responsibility for it.” Gerard felt his stomach twist into a tight knot. It was what he feared—his dad was going to try to keep them apart.

“We weren’t even dating then! It was an _accident!_ It wasn’t his fault—he took care of me!”

“Fine,” his father said, glaring at him. Gerard lowered his head and sighed shakily. He was more angry than scared, but the fear was still there. His mother was on his side, and he was almost certain that she wouldn’t allow his father to keep them apart…but that didn’t mean she would keep him from setting up roadblocks. “So you’ve…got a boyfriend.”

“I’m gay,” Gerard said irritably.

“More power to you—so…boys will be boys, do you need condoms?”

“Dad!” Gerard screeched, caught off guard and embarrassed. It was the other unavoidable conversation—sex.

“I don’t want to talk about this at dinner,” Mikey snapped. “I’m gonna _fucking_ puke.”

“Fine—after dinner, Gerard, you and me are you going to have a little chat,” his father said. Gerard rolled his eyes and tried not to let his nerves return.

“We don’t need to ‘chat’,” Gerard muttered.

“Gerard’s smart,” his mother said. “And you already had _that_ conversation. And he’s almost eighteen—he’s been through sex ed. He’s not stupid.”

“Fine,” his father spat. “No boys in your room, Gerard.” Gerard’s body froze and he looked to his mother quickly for support. “Mikey can’t have girls in his room, you can’t have boys. It’s fair. And you’re not to stay at their house over night.”

“That’s _not_ fair,” Gerard argued. “I don’t have _girl_ friends—I only have guy friends…if that.” 

“So you can hang out in Mikey’s room,” their father said.

“I don’t want Frank in my room,” Mikey said immediately. “Let Gerard have Frank over—they don’t do anything.”

“I’m not saying he can’t come over—”

“Dad, if they’re gonna fuck, they’re gonna fuck. You can’t stop it—you’ll just piss them off.”

“Rules are rules,” their father said. “It’s the same as if he were straight.”

“No, it’s not,” their mother said softly. “He can have whoever he wants in his room—he can sleep over where he wants. You can’t take that freedom away from him.”

“So then Mikey should be allowed to have girls over—or sleep at their house,” her husband said harshly.

“As long as their mothers don’t mind…” She shot her eyes to Mikey and looked him over. “And no babies ensue.”

“I don’t want kids—don’t look at me like that,” Mikey said harshly. “Let’s turn this back to Gerard. I have nothing to do with it. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t care if I have girls in my room or not—it’s about Gerard. Let it be about him.”

Gerard sighed deeply as the conversation ran dry. It was all on the table—all that he wanted on the table at least. His father didn’t seem unhappy about the turn of events, but he didn’t seem too supportive of it either. At least Gerard could be thankful that there was nothing keeping him and Frank apart…


	9. Night

Gerard sat down beside Frank at lunch and offered the other boy a smile. After dinner the previous night, when he’d told his parents everything, he’d called Frank and talked for almost three hours before Frank’s mom told him to get off the phone. Gerard felt like a weight had been lifted—so many fears and worries erased.

He wasn’t afraid of getting thrown out of his house anymore if his dad found out about him. Maybe it was too soon to tell, but his family didn’t seem so against his relationship with Frank. There was no way to describe the relief. He just felt like smiling all day—even in gym when one of the better sports players kicked him in the balls. The smile hid when he was around others, but he felt it burning inside of him.

“Hey,” Frank said. “You look like you’re having a good day.” Frank’s smile just made Gerard happier. He tried not to let himself think about how Frank could have been spying on him just minutes before—not having kept his word. He just wanted to hold onto the happiness he hadn’t felt in so long.

“I am—how’re your classes going?” Gerard asked. 

“Okay, I guess,” Frank answered, smiling more. “You’re too damn happy,” he said, laughing suddenly. Gerard smiled and looked down at his lunch tray, knowing he was too happy, knowing he was too content with the world. If it weren’t for all of the people in the room, Gerard felt he was comfortable enough to wrap Frank up in his arms and hug him until his ribs cracked. If it weren’t for Frank, he’d never have had the courage to get the weight of the world off of his chest.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank walked home with Mikey and Gerard after school, part of the walk—he and Gerard were even holding hands. It was nice to see Gerard come alive. Frank felt that it really was worth it for him to have invested in a guy who usually wasn’t his type. 

To think this, all of this—the smile, the laughing, the brave hand-holding—was all because of him. He felt himself swell with pride when he thought of how he’d managed to help someone achieve such a great level of happiness.

He couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Gerard had been like before his first boyfriend, Alex, had fucked him up. If it was, Frank found even more justification in killing the man. 

When they got to Gerard’s room, Frank’s thoughts nearly disappeared when Gerard started kissing him. It wasn’t a deep kiss, there was no tongue involved, but it was forceful and almost needy.

Frank was so tempted to take advantage of Gerard’s good mood and sudden affection, but he knew better. Maybe coming out to his parents had changed his life for the better, and maybe telling Frank about his assault had lifted a weight off of his shoulders, but there was no way that he’d overcome the abuse.

So Frank just wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and hugged him tightly. Gerard made a soft, happy sound and pressed his face down against Frank’s shoulder and the crook of his neck. The more Frank tried to convince himself that Gerard just wanted platonic affection, the more Gerard seemed to try to nonverbally tell him otherwise.

Gerard may or may not have just rutted against his leg, but Frank had to pretend that he didn’t notice. He couldn’t let Gerard take anything too fast, and he couldn’t let himself mistake an accidental movement as an invitation. 

“I drew you a picture last night when we were on the phone,” Gerard said with a large smile, pulling back from Frank’s hug. Frank was glad he’d resisted his urge to make a move. “Do you want to see it?”

“Yeah, I wanna see it,” Frank said, smiling and playing with Gerard’s hand that somehow ended up in his. Gerard smiled and pulled away, going over to his desk and rifting through stacks of paper. 

“It’s not very good,” he said. Frank rolled his eyes and crept up behind Gerard’s shoulder. “But I only had one free hand.”

“Oh, only one free hand?” Frank said in a teasing tone. “Where was the other one?”

“Holding the phone,” Gerard giggled. He pulled out a charcoal covered piece of paper and stared at it, blocking it from Frank’s view every time he’d try to get a look at it. “Don’t let Mikey see you leave with it? Okay?” Gerard said, handing Frank the drawing upside down.

Frank took it and fixed Gerard with a gentle smile, just to make sure anxiety and embarrassment didn’t rob his boyfriend’s face of happiness.

“It’ll be our secret,” Frank said, giving Gerard a quick wink before turning the paper over in his hand. He didn’t see what was so special about it that Mikey couldn’t see it, but he liked it nonetheless. 

He didn’t know why his phone call with Gerard inspired him to sketch a picture of the two of them as a blood sucking vampire and a half rotted mummy, but he enjoyed it.

“Aw, thanks, Gee—it’s cute.”

“You really like it?” Gerard asked, smiling wide. 

“Yeah, I really like it,” Frank said, wrapping Gerard up in his arms again and kissing his cheek. Gerard cooed and pushed his face against Frank’s shoulder again.

It was so hard not to make a move or initiate intimacy. Gerard was in the perfect position. Frank wanted him, and Gerard looked so capable and willing…he was in such a good mood, sex was the usual way of making a good day better, right?

But Frank knew better. Even if Gerard was hugging him around the waist and smiling at him so sweetly, it was _not_ an invitation. Gerard wasn’t strong enough yet. But _god damn_ he looked so sweet.

And since when did sweet constitute seductive?

Frank shook his head to clear away the thoughts. Gerard had changed him just as much as he’d changed Gerard…

“You should sleep over this weekend,” Gerard said, tightening his hold around Frank’s waist and smiled more.

“Do you think your parents will let me?” Frank asked. Gerard nodded, but his smile suddenly faltered. 

“Maybe…” Gerard said, letting his arms drop from Frank’s waist. “I don’t know. It’s probably not a good idea. My dad will say things and probably humiliate me by throwing condoms at me.”

“Did you tell him we’re not sleeping together?” Frank asked, getting his arms around Gerard even though the other boy started fighting him.

“He doesn’t believe me—and he knows that at some point you’re going to want me to.”

“Like I’m the bad guy or something,” Frank said, letting Gerard squirm free.

“Well, he sees me as his daughter now. Every boyfriend I’ll ever have is going to be the enemy in his eyes.” Frank followed Gerard over to the bed and sat down beside him, making sure not to come off in a seductive manner. 

It was hard not to get frustrated when he wanted sex and his boyfriend wasn’t able to offer it.

“Well, I’m not going to hurt you, so he doesn’t need to worry.” Gerard hummed and then laid down, making Frank feel even worse. He wanted to touch—he wanted to give this great day a great close—he wanted Gerard to give him what a boyfriend was supposed to…

“Maybe…Frank, do you think that maybe—not this weekend, but the next one—maybe we could…try something?” Gerard looked at him suddenly and Frank stiffened. That was the last thing he wanted Gerard to say.

He didn’t trust Gerard. He didn’t want to get his hopes up that they might “try something” only to have Gerard psych himself out and not go through with it. Frank didn’t want to be like Alex, either, and force Gerard to do it—and guilt tripping him was the same as drugging him in Frank’s eyes. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Frank said, trying to sound hopeful at the same moment that he tried to keep the hope from settling in his own mind. He couldn’t expect Gerard to go through with it. Frank knew himself too well—if Gerard didn’t go through with it, Frank would get mad at him. “Are you sure though? You don’t have to.” Gerard looked away quickly.

“You want to…”

“So what?” Frank answered. “You don’t have to force yourself. I don’t want to force you.”

“I can’t hold off forever, Frank,” Gerard mumbled.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to rush!” Frank argued. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” Gerard asked, raising one brow.

“No,” Frank said. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it for my sake—”

“It’s not just for you!” Gerard called. “Do you think I want to live with my only memory of sex being Alex hurting me? I don’t want to be afraid forever—I want to be normal.”

“Okay,” Frank said, not so much giving in as understanding Gerard’s needs. “So…next weekend we’ll try something.” Gerard looked away from him as if shy. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous,” he added, trying to evoke some kind of conversation. Gerard stayed silent, his previous happiness seeming to have disappeared. “I’d hate to suck and have you leave me for a porn star or something.” Gerard turned to look at him with confusion.

“You could suck, and I wouldn’t know…as long as you don’t hurt me.”

“Well, I’ll try really hard not to.” Gerard nodded.

“You’d better,” Gerard muttered. Frank smiled at him, glad when Gerard returned the warm expression. “Want to kiss me?” Frank laughed and then crawled onto the bed beside his boyfriend to kiss him gently. He guessed it was as close to flirtatious as Gerard could manage.

Slowly, Frank pushed the kiss deeper, getting Gerard to relax into it. Gerard eventually even wrapped his arms around Frank’s shoulders and held him close—a stray hand occasionally mixing with Frank’s hair.

Once or twice, Frank felt he even heard Gerard moan against his mouth. 

With the promise of sex later, Frank found it easier than he’d thought to keep his desires from taking over him. He didn’t even consider throwing a leg over Gerard’s unguarded hips or straddling him to keep him pinned and vulnerable to a deeper kiss.

When Gerard’s parents arrived home from work, however, Gerard was almost too quick to push Frank away. Frank guessed it was just force of habit…he really didn’t want to think that Gerard was ashamed of him. 

“Sorry,” Gerard said. “I just don’t want my dad to see me like that—it’s embarrassing.” As if to make up for it, Gerard kissed his cheek gently and nuzzled his neck.

“I take it your parents don’t cuddle, then,” Frank said. Gerard smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

“Not really. Mikey would tease them too much.” Frank stroked Gerard’s cheek and looked at him in silence for a moment.

“I should probably go home, shouldn’t I?” Frank asked, trying not to let his reluctance show.

“Yeah,” Gerard muttered, turning his eyes away. “I love you, though,” Gerard said, catching Frank’s eyes and smiling again.

“I love you, too,” Frank said quickly, caught off guard by Gerard’s sudden affection. Gerard smiled at him and leaned back further against the pillow on his bed. Frank wanted to pretend that Gerard wasn’t deliberately _trying_ to get him turned on. Who the fuck told a guy he needed to go home and then gave him the pillow-talk eyes? “You’re so fuckin’ cute,” Frank said with a laugh, leaning down and kissing Gerard again, licking his bottom lip and then nipping it softly.

Gerard made a soft sound, almost like he was scared, and turned his face away.

“My dad will see,” Gerard whimpered. His body went stiff when he heard footsteps near the door down to his room, and Frank respectably got off of the bed.

“Gerard?” It was his dad…of course.

“Yeah?” Gerard called back, sitting up quickly and fixing his hair and fluffing his pillow. The instant footsteps sounded on the stairs, Gerard stood up. “What?”

Frank felt the tension rise as Gerard’s father reached the basement, even though the man had a nearly peaceful expression on his face.

“What, Dad?” Gerard asked again. 

“I was just seeing if you were down here,” his dad said. Frank stared at the man, tense and rigid. He was waiting for the explosion—the “stay away from my son.”

“Well I am…so—” Gerard flinched when his father shifted his weight, making the man gaze at him curiously. 

“So this is your boyfriend?” His dad asked. Frank had to keep from rolling his eyes, but Gerard shut down. He looked terrified. 

Frank stepped closer to his boyfriend in order to protect him if somehow fists started flying, and to offer support if the assault was merely verbal.

“Y-yeah,” Gerard stammered. Frank pictured Gerard the way he had been just minutes before—smiling, kissing, _loving._ Now he stood shaking in fear. “Frank,” Gerard identified, as if his father didn’t already know his name. 

“Well, Frank,” Gerard’s father said, turning his attention immediately to Frank. Frank stepped in front of Gerard slightly, defending him even though he wasn’t being attacked. “I’ll tell you this now so we don’t have a disagreement later—if you _ever_ hurt my son, if you _ever_ make him do _anything_ he doesn’t want to do—I have a handgun in my room, and I _will_ put one of those bullets through your head.”

“Dad!” Gerard cried, grabbing Frank’s arm as if expecting the scare tactic to cause him to bolt up the stairs and out of his life. Frank reassured him that he wasn’t running anywhere , turning and gently placing an inconspicuous kiss on his cheek and placing his hand over Gerard’s on his arm.

“It’s fine,” Frank whispered to in his ear before turning back to Gerard’s dad. “I’m not going to hurt him,” Frank insisted. Gerard’s father looked him over and then shrugged.

“You’d better not.” Then he turned his back to them and started up the stairs. “That’s all.”

As soon as he was gone, Gerard covered his face and groaned. 

“Frank, I’m sorry,” Gerard moaned into his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Frank said, rubbing his boyfriend’s shoulders and forcing a smile onto his face. “That’s normal—that’s a good sign. It shows he cares about you.” When he didn’t appear reassured, Frank pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek firmly. “Don’t be upset—I’m not gonna get scared off. I love you.” At last, Gerard seemed consoled and rested his head against Frank’s.

“I love you, too,” Gerard mumbled. “I love you…” He sighed softly and pushed himself closer Frank. “I’ll be good…I’ll be good for next weekend.” Frank sighed and tried not to let his mounting anxiety show. Next weekend could either be a blessing, or a disaster.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard was trying to look well composed and not as nauseous and nervous as he actually was as his mother drove him to Frank’s house where he’d been staying for the weekend. His parents couldn’t know what his and Frank’s intentions were—and if he sat in the car shaking and _crying_ like he felt he might do, there was no way they’d let him stay the night let alone a weekend.

So he sat in the seat, focusing on his breathing and not his rapidly pounding heart. He almost tried not thinking about Frank, but found it impossible. Frank was going to be a part of the evening, and he couldn’t refuse to acknowledge that.

“Are you okay, Gerard?” His mom asked as she pulled up out front of Frank’s home. Frank’s mother was already gone, at her boyfriend’s house for the weekend.

“Yeah,” Gerard answered, looking at her quickly.

“Something going on? You look really nervous.” She stared at him, as if seeing through him and seeing all of the images in his mind—including the ones that involved Alex.

“First time meeting Frank’s family, really,” Gerard lied. “Not tonight, but tomorrow. I’m worried—I don’t want offend anyone or make Frank look bad.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” his mother said, reaching over to rub his shoulder. “They’ll love you.”

“Okay,” Gerard mumbled, unfastening his seatbelt around the bag of clothes he had in his lap and opening the car door. “You’ll pick me up Sunday?”

“Yes, eight o’clock—don’t try to make it later or you’ll be in trouble.” Gerard nodded and got out of the car. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Gerard muttered, closing the door and turning towards Frank’s home. His boyfriend was already on the porch waiting for him. Gerard tried not to be terrified as he walked up the steps, tried not to feel like a cow going to slaughter without another choice. 

But he had to give to Frank—he couldn’t back out, and he couldn’t be scared. He had to be willing—and willing he was, to get it over with quickly at least. Then he could have the rest of the weekend to recover before going home…if Frank didn’t want to do it more than once. Gerard really hoped that once would be enough. He guessed it might be if he was good enough.

He really wanted to be good enough.

“Gerard, you don’t have to do this,” Frank said. They were just sitting on the couch, not even kissing or touching. “I can tell how much this is scaring you.”

“I’m okay,” Gerard lied.

“No you’re not. You’re shaking, you’re not breathing right, and you look like you’re going to cry.” Frank was looking at him with a gentle enough expression, but Gerard still imagined frustration in them. “We’re not doing it tonight,” Frank declared. “I don’t want to when you’re like this. You’re tearing yourself apart.”

“I’m just nervous,” Gerard whimpered. “I can go through with it.” Frank sighed and looked at the floor. Gerard felt that the rejection was hurting him more than his fear.

“Gerard, you’re…”

“I’m okay,” Gerard insisted. Alex may have raped him when he realized Gerard was too scared to sleep with him, but Frank was going to leave him and Gerard knew it. He couldn’t let it happen like that—he’d rather have the rape. So long as he wasn’t alone again. Frank had him addicted to the affection and attention—he’d sooner die than be alone again.

And he needed to let go and show Frank that. Frank needed to see.

“You’re not okay,” Frank argued. “You’re a _wreck._ ”

“I’m _trying,_ ” Gerard whined. 

“Can you _not_ try?” Frank said. “You’re ‘trying’ is what’s psyching you out. Just relax—just be you. Just be _you_ being with _me._ ” Gerard tried to calm himself on Frank’s words, but only managed to take away the swelling tears.

So instead of rushing to the bedroom like Gerard had planned for, they sat and watched movies…for hours. Watched movies, ate pizza, drank soda, and then got to cuddling. 

Not tonight, Gerard felt. It wasn’t possible to do it tonight. Tonight was better spent cuddling.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank tried hard to steady his breathing as he stared at himself in his bathroom mirror. Last night he and Gerard merely cuddled and slept together in the same bed. But tonight…tonight things were _going._

They were making out in bed, Gerard pushing up against him and moaning softly—getting caught up in it. Frank didn’t even think Gerard had the _ability_ to get caught up in kissing and groping, but he seemed to be losing his inhibitions.

Gerard wasn’t even breathing right—his breaths were hitching and shaking, and not from fear for once. Gerard was melting in his hands, but Frank was afraid of his sudden passion. If Gerard took it too fast, he might end up moving in a way that made him hurt himself. The last thing Frank wanted was for Gerard to get himself injured because he let go.

Splashing cold water over his face one last time, Frank grabbed the things he needed from the back of the bathroom’s cabinet drawer and started back for his bedroom where Gerard lay waiting. 

He couldn’t tell if the passion was forced or not anymore, but he was afraid to ask Gerard if he was alright. He’d already asked him at least a dozen times, always getting the same answer with mounting annoyance. 

Gerard said he was okay, he said he was ready to try…

Frank crawled back onto his bed and leaned down to kiss his boyfriend, only to have Gerard kiss him first—ravenously. It was so unlike Gerard…it was so perfect.

( ) ( ) ( )

On the inside, Gerard felt himself dying as he acted how he felt Frank wanted him to. He kissed him deeply, running his tongue along Frank’s while gripping at the other boy’s shoulders as Frank lay atop him in the dark bedroom. It was hard to keep his fear from showing when Frank pushed down and started subtly rutting against him. 

Gerard was trying so hard to keep from getting distracted and going soft. Frank would feel and he’d ask the same question he always did. The answer to it was no. No, Gerard wasn’t feeling okay. He was scared—he was so, _so_ scared. 

When Frank took off his shirt, Gerard made an attempt to take his own off as well. Frank stopped him, preferring to do the honor himself. Gerard kept from trembling as Frank ran his hands slowly up his chest beneath his shirt, and let his whimper of terror mix with a fake moan as his boyfriend rubbed at his nipples briefly before pulling the shirt off over his head.

“You’re beautiful,” Frank whispered softly. Gerard whimpered and looked around Frank’s ceiling, too afraid to make eye contact or speak. He had to remind himself to be brave, to trust Frank and to believe that nothing bad was going to happen. “You okay?”

“What do I do?” Gerard asked, keeping up this breathy voice Frank seemed to like. He let Frank guide his legs farther apart , and even held still as his boyfriend unlatched his belt and unzipped his pants. 

It was happening—soon there would be no going back.

“You just… _relax_ , you’ve gotta relax or it’s gonna hurt you. You need to not be tense, so if you’re scared, you need to tell me.” Frank was fighting to make eye contact, and Gerard was afraid to do it.

“I’m okay,” Gerard breathed. “You’ll…you’ll go slow, right?” He felt better talking about it. He was ashamed to admit that he wished he and Frank had had some sort of table discussion to detail what was going to happen. He had anxiety—he wanted to _know_ where Frank was going to touch and _exactly_ what it was going to feel like. He didn’t want surprised or to let caught off guard.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Frank said softly, leaning down and kissing him gently. It would’ve been sweet if, at that moment, he hadn’t started rutting against him again. Gerard didn’t like it—he felt like Frank could get off without him just by grinding their groins together.

He failed to see the emotion in it. It was just an act. A game.

In another few minutes, Gerard was suffering through the hidden embarrassment of having Frank strip him. He felt so vulnerable, even though Frank was now naked too. Frank could see him—Frank could see more of him than ever before and Gerard was terrified. Alex was the only other one to see him this way, and Alex had ruined it.

Gerard had let Alex ruin it.

He let his noises of terror turn into fake moans as Frank began to pump him, almost forcing him to reach full hardness. Gerard let Frank take control, let Frank uncap the lubricant and watched him pour it on his fingers through the shadows.

Lube was good, Gerard decided. It would help, and it wouldn’t make things more difficult. But when Frank started to press the first finger inside, Gerard squeezed his eyes shut and lost control of his breathing. 

It wasn’t _bad,_ but it wasn’t pleasant. It felt so wrong. Gerard almost lost himself, until he felt Frank’s lips on his. Gerard tried to hide in the exchange of affection, but his attention kept getting drawn back to the finger spearing him, and rubbing him from the inside. At one point, it almost felt good.

And then Frank pressed the second finger inside and Gerard gasped. It hurt. This one hurt, but Frank held still until he found himself capable of letting his muscles relax again.

“Just relax,” Frank whispered soothingly. “You’re in control—you can tell me to stop if it hurts and I will. You’ve got control.” The words made him calmer, but he didn’t know why. He suddenly felt less helpless.

He sighed softly as Frank began to move the fingers in and out. He tried to focus on the feeling of the pads of Frank’s fingers over the burn of his tense muscles. But just as the pain faded away, Frank added another finger without warning—the pain making him release a sound so close to a sob that Frank froze.

“Ow,” Gerard whimpered, going rigid against his better judgment and having the pain explode as his body tightened around the digits. “Ow, ow!” Gerard called, gripping at the sheets because he didn’t want to touch Frank anymore.

“It’s okay—just relax. Just relax!” Gerard tried, but it took a while to succeed. The pain didn’t stop, but Gerard let Frank continue dragging the rough digits in and out until, finally, he pulled them out and the assault was over. “Do you want to stop?”

_Yes,_ Gerard thought, but he shook his head no.

“Okay,” Frank said, leaning down and kissing Gerard deeply, letting their tongues touch. “Okay, I’ll go slow. I’ll be gentle.” Gerard nodded and forced himself to spread his legs farther as Frank leaned away to grab the condom from some distant part of the bed. 

Gerard tried to think of how much he wanted this, just to keep himself from going completely soft even though his erection had already started quickly fading away. He hoped there was somehow a way for the sex to feel good to him too, and not just for Frank, but couldn’t see a possibility. It hurt. It was going to hurt.

His ass was for Frank’s enjoyment. All he was going to get in return was a handjob.

Gerard nuzzled the pillow as Frank lined up with him, and closed his eyes tight as Frank pressed inside. The pain was immediate, but dull, and when Frank took Gerard’s length into his hand and started pumping it, the pain almost disappeared.

The absence of the pain made it easier for Gerard to keep his body relaxed as Frank pushed slowly in as deep as he could. Once he was all the way inside, Frank initiated another deep kiss, making it sloppy with his lust as he tried to focus on stroking the member in his hand and keeping his hips momentarily still.

“Does it hurt?” Frank asked, panting with need for air. Gerard shook his head and focused on the kindness in his boyfriend’s eyes. Frank wasn’t Alex. Frank wasn’t here to hurt him. “Remember, you’ve got control, okay?” Gerard nodded and shifted his legs, giving Frank permission to move. 

The first two thrusts were painful, and Gerard almost considered asking him to stop—even if it was just for a minute. But then, all of a sudden, Frank changed his angle and hit something that made Gerard’s entire body shudder with mind-blowing pleasure. He was almost ashamed of it. 

“Feel good?” Frank asked, hitting that spot again and making Gerard moan for real. It felt like Frank was mocking him, even if Gerard knew—or at least _hoped_ \--that Frank would never be so cruel.

Gerard exhaled shakily and nodded, feeling horridly exposed and far too vulnerable. With each thrust, Frank could either continue to give him that pleasure, or take it away and leave him with the burning, the stinging, and the ultimate pain. 

As it was, Frank continued hitting that spot and stroking Gerard’s length in time with his quickening thrusts. Gerard could only writhe and moan, incapable of making words and unable to even suggest that Frank slow his pace just a little—just a small bit because it was starting to hurt again. 

But the faster Frank moved, the more times he hit that spot which left Gerard’s nerve endings singing. It hurt, but he liked it.

It was hurting…and he _liked_ it. 

Gerard wailed softly, trying to focus on just the pleasure and not the ache. He didn’t want to think that somehow, if he’d just behaved with Alex the way he was now behaving with Frank, that he would’ve liked _that_ assault, too.

Soon, too soon, Gerard felt the warmth pool in the pit of stomach and his sunk his teeth into his lower lip. He was afraid and embarrassed. The last thing he wanted—the very _last_ thing he wanted was to come undone in Frank’s hands. He didn’t want seen like that—he didn’t want Frank to see him helpless in the throes of an orgasm, completely and utterly at Frank’s mercy. Vulnerable, weak, and desperate.

But it was too late. His breath caught in his throat and he felt his body go tense. The shameful pleasure overcame him and he moaned, even though Frank’s movements inside of him were suddenly that much more painful. 

The pain didn’t affect him as greatly as the humiliation did—the burning shame at having his seed running down Frank’s hand and splattering against his chest and stomach. He felt gross; even when Frank kissed him, he felt wrong. 

His boyfriend finished with him after four slow, painful thrusts that only Gerard’s exhaustion blotted out. When Frank came, he’d choked out Gerard’s name, but to Gerard it sounded forced. It sounded like a lie—like he wanted it to be someone else under him and _not_ Gerard Way, the deranged freak who’d had his last boyfriend set him on fire. 

Gerard closed his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth against the sting as Frank finally pulled out. He could suddenly feel every fiber that was stretched, and every layer of skin that was split. He wanted to check if he was bleeding, but didn’t want Frank to get offended or angry.

“Love you,” Frank said, leaning down and giving Gerard a soft kiss on the lips. Gerard returned it softly and tried not to show his pain and fear. If Frank saw how ashamed he was, Gerard just _knew_ he would get upset. “You okay?” Frank asked for the millionth time.

“Kind of hurts,” Gerard stammered, hoping to hide his emotional vulnerability with his physical weakness. 

“Oh,” Frank said softly, pulling away and sitting up. Gerard closed his legs slowly, biting back a hiss as his muscles protested…just like with Alex.

_But it’s_ not _like that at all,_ Gerard thought. _It’s not as bad. It doesn’t hurt even_ half _as bad._

“I hurt you?” Frank asked, sounding concerned, but distant as he took off the condom and threw it away in the wastebasket beside the bed. Gerard didn’t answer. He’d already said he hurt, he didn’t want to repeat it again and again. “Are you bleeding? Is it bad?” Frank asked, sounding more frantic. “I didn’t mean for it to hurt you.”

“I think I’m okay,” Gerard said softly, rolling onto his side and pulling the blankets over him slowly so he didn’t look like he was trying to hide even though he was.

“Are you bleeding?” Frank asked again, laying down at Gerard’s side and trying to run his fingers through Gerard’s hair. The instant he reached for him, Gerard pulled away.

“I don’t know,” Gerard answered quietly. “I’m okay.” Frank exhaled deeply, sounding annoyed. Gerard squeezed his eyes closed and tried not to sob.

He’d ruined it. In the few short minutes afterwards, Gerard had managed to ruin the whole evening. And he’d tried so hard not to—he’d wanted Frank to be happy, but let himself get in the way. 

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Frank said softly, sitting up. “Do you want to come with me?” Gerard wanted to say no, but he had to salvage the night. He had to give Frank what he wanted, so he sat up and held in the noises of pain as he walked with Frank down the hall into the light of the bathroom.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank knew something was wrong. He’d known from the way Gerard had stayed so still during his orgasm and barely made a real sound the whole time. Now Gerard admitted that he was in pain and wouldn’t even return the smiles Frank tried to give him or let him touch him. 

Frank guessed he could justify the rejection of touch though—he really didn’t like the idea of having the fingers that had been in his ass running through his hair. That hadn’t been the best choice he guessed.

As Frank got the water ready for the shower, Gerard cowered against the door, his side facing Frank and his hands covering his groin. The other boy was obviously uncomfortable, even if he didn’t want to say it. 

He hated being seen, and Frank guessed that taking a shower with someone else in the bright lights of the bathroom had to be torture. But he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want Gerard to be alone, and he really hoped that if he washed up Gerard would let him cuddle or at least hold hands again. Taking a shower had seemed like a good choice, but now he was regretting it. 

He was just hurting Gerard more. Gerard had been raped—twice. He was traumatized, and visibly ashamed of it. Something painful was manifesting in Gerard’s heart, and Frank could sense it. He didn’t know what specific things were making Gerard sad at that moment, the trauma was something he could never understand. But he wanted to make accommodations for it; he wanted to show Gerard that he was going to support him whether he was happy after they’d made love or absolutely miserable.

“Gerard?” Frank said, getting the other boy’s attention. Gerard looked at him out of the corner of his eye and then looked away again.

“I’m okay,” Gerard said quickly.

“Do you not…want me to sleep in the room tonight?” Frank asked. Gerard looked at him again with worry. Frank could see how hard Gerard was trying to ‘be good,’ to behave the way a ‘normal’ person should. “Because, I know you’re hurting—”

“I’m okay!” Gerard argued.

“—I know you’re upset, and I want you to have time alone if you need to, you know, have…time alone.” Time to cry is what Frank meant. Time to be vulnerable without being watched. 

“I don’t…”

“Gerard, I don’t know how to help you,” Frank said, feeling defeated. “You’re sad and I hurt you, and I can tell you’re really unhappy about what just happened.”

“No—I’m really not, Frank,” Gerard argued, looking desperate. “Please, it wasn’t you. I’m just—with Alex and everything. I’m trying really hard—”

“I know,” Frank said quickly. “But you’re trying too hard. You’re putting up walls—”

“Frank, I’m fine,” Gerard argued, looking like he might cry. “Can we just…take the shower now? Please?” Frank sighed and gave in. He didn’t know how to help, and Gerard didn’t want him to help yet. He had no choice but to give up.

Gerard showered with his back to Frank the entire time. Frank tried to give him his privacy, even though he’d refused Frank’s offer of taking separate showers, but still stole a couple of glances behind him to see if there was any blood coming from Gerard’s body. He didn’t see any, and that gave him some relief. 

He tried to think of what might have caused Gerard so much pain, pain besides the stretching he wasn’t yet used to. Frank decided that he must have been too rough with him. He should’ve used more lubricant, and should’ve moved slower. He really should’ve realized that he’d been doing it wrong from the moment he started. 

He handed Gerard a towel after the shower was over and let the other boy dry off without an audience. Frank wound his own towel around his waist and left for his room, leaving wet footprints in the hall. By the time he’d dried his body and pulled on a clean pair of boxers, Gerard crept into the room with his towel wound around his waist. 

Frank fluffed his hair with the towel and stepped out of Gerard’s way of his clothes, folded on Frank’s dresser. He turned his back as Gerard pulled on a t-shirt and boxers, and waited until he was certain the other boy was dressed before turning back around.

“Sorry I’ve been such a drama queen,” Gerard mumbled, standing beside the bed rather than sitting down on it.

“You haven’t,” Frank argued, going to his boyfriend and opening his arms in an inviting gesture. It actually surprised him when Gerard went into his arms and returned his embrace. “You were fine, Gerard.”

“Frank?” Gerard said softly. 

“Yeah?” Frank said, letting his hands sit on Gerard’s hips gently. 

“Can I have a kiss?” Frank stared at him for a moment and then leaned up to press their lips together. Gerard returned the kiss gently, but broke it quickly. He turned his face away and Frank let his hands fall from Gerard’s hips. 

“Do you uh…do you want your normal side of the bed?” Frank asked just to break the silence. Gerard slowly sat down on the side of the bed closest to him which was his ‘usual’ side of the narrow beds. “Ready for bed?” He asked, swinging his arms uselessly because he didn’t just want to stand still with Gerard staring at him like a beaten puppy.

“Okay,” Gerard said, slowly lying down and pulling the covers over him. Frank turned off the light and crawled into bed beside him, kissing him lightly on the cheek before getting under the covers as well. “Frank?” Gerard asked, rolling onto his side with his back to Frank.

“Yeah?” Frank answered, scooting close enough to spoon, but leaving about an inch between their bodies.

“It’s going to stop hurting, right?” He sounded so hopeless.

“Well, yeah,” Frank said, propping his head up on his hand. “It’ll stop. You’ll still be sore tomorrow, but it’ll definitely be better by school on Monday.”

“That’s good,” Gerard said quickly. “That’s really good.” Frank tried to think of something else to say, but didn’t know what would be appropriate. He wanted Gerard to talk about what he was feeling—a surprise even to himself—but didn’t know if Gerard would even consider opening up now. “Frank?” 

“Yeah?” Frank answered. 

“I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Frank replied. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Gerard whispered, cuddling the pillow instead of Frank.


	10. Cope

In his sleep, Gerard had curled closer to Frank and mumbled softly. Frank was thankful for that, because in the waking hours afterwards Gerard had done nothing but keep his distance and hold back all words. He was obviously still troubled, but he refused to talk about it. When Frank pressed, all he got in response was ‘I’m fine’ and if he really dug deep, Gerard would just whimper and say that he’d tried ‘so hard’ to make it perfect. 

Other than that, he would say nothing. Not even to say he was hungry or say what he wanted to eat. Frank almost found it unbearable. He’d wanted a boyfriend so he could have someone to spend time with while his mother was off with _her_ boyfriend. He wanted the company more than he wanted the sex, and to say that he regretted the previous night was a massive understatement. 

He almost felt that it was safe to say that he was feeling more hurt than Gerard was at the turn of events. He was lonely again, and though Gerard kept preaching that he didn’t want Frank to leave him, he wasn’t really showing his appreciation for the companionship.

It was so hard not to get mad at him. 

“Gerard, we _need_ to talk!” Frank finally exploded at noon. Gerard looked at him from down the couch and bit his lip. “I didn’t mean to hurt you last night, and if you want to try again _some other time_ I’ll make sure to be a lot more gentle, okay? I don’t really know what’s upsetting you the most, and I want to help, but you won’t talk—and you’re _not_ fine! You’re _not_ fine!”

“I’m…just—I’m just…coping,” Gerard mumbled, looking at Frank as if expecting to be physically attacked. 

“Coping?” Frank asked in an inviting, compassionate tone. They needed to talk—about _something._

“Yeah. With…with all the feelings that I have,” Gerard said, pulling his feet onto the couch and wrapping his arms around his knees.

“What feelings?” Frank asked. “Can you please, _please_ open up just a little to me? Trust me. I’m not going to judge you or make fun of you.” Gerard looked at the floor and shook his head. “Please, Gerard? Do you really not see the giant space you’re putting between us?” Gerard lowered his head to rest on his knees and shrugged his shoulders. “Why are you putting walls up? I’m your boyfriend—you’re supposed to trust me.”

“I wish I hadn’t done it, Frank,” Gerard mumbled.

“Sleep with me?” Frank asked. Gerard shrugged again.

“I feel really…It’s not _you_ , Frank, but…I feel really gross and really, _really,_ really used up.” Gerard closed his eyes and raised his face to the ceiling as if there was something there that could hide him.

“You feel like I used you?” Frank asked, instantly feeling the anger mix with the pain.

“No,” Gerard moaned, lowering his face. “No—not _used._ Used _up._ Like, I have nothing to give you because Alex took it, and I don’t know how to do it without feeling like I did then. Without _hurting,_ and I…I _liked_ it, and I hate myself for liking it because it just feels _wrong._ It feels so wrong.”

“It’s not wrong,” Frank said quickly, moving closer to Gerard on the couch and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need to be ashamed of it or feel guilty. It was just…love. It was love.” Gerard lowered his head further and pressed his face against his knees. Frank knew he’d said something wrong, but he didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t going to agree—he wasn’t going to say ‘oh yes, last night was a terrible thing. You’re awful for letting me seduce you.’ There was still so much more going on beneath the surface that Gerard was fighting to hold back. He still wanted to hide.

“It’s _not_ love,” Gerard argued. “Frank—it’s an action.”

“An action that shows love—”

“No!” Gerard argued. “Alex didn’t love me! He didn’t love me and he did that to me! It’s _not_ love!—it’s _torture._ ” Frank stared at him, but then nodded. He had to understand. He _had_ to at least try to understand how Gerard felt.

“Okay,” Frank said in a gentle voice. “So…when it comes to sex, it’s just a physical thing,” Frank probed, trying to understand. Gerard hesitated and then nodded.

“I don’t…want it to mean more,” Gerard mumbled.

“But, Gerard, you understand that it means more for me, right?” Gerard wouldn’t look at him. 

“Why? It’s nothing.”

“It’s _not_ nothing,” Frank insisted. “It’s _trust_ , right? You have to trust me if you let me get that close to you, right? If you thought I was going to punch in the face or something in the middle of it, you wouldn’t let me near you. Right?” Gerard paused, but ended up nodding. “So it’s trust, and it’s—“

“Why’d he do it?” Gerard asked suddenly, staring at the wall ahead of him. Frank was caught off guard and stammered as he tried to think of a single word. “Why’d he do that to me?”

“Because he wanted to control you and make you do what he wanted,” Frank said. “He wanted to hurt you, and he knew that that would be the best way to get in your head and keep you in pain.” Gerard made a soft sound buried his face in his knees again. “It was his way of saying ‘if I can’t have you, no one can,’ because he knew how hard it would be for you to feel better again.”

“I wish I’d just let him,” Gerard mumbled. “I wouldn’t be so messed up.” Frank sighed and scooted even closer on the couch. Gerard surprised him when he leaned his head over onto Frank’s shoulder.

“You’re not messed up,” Frank said, leaning his head onto Gerard’s. “You’re getting better.” Gerard made a soft, coo-like sound and nuzzled Frank’s shoulder. Frank could have sighed in relief. Gerard was finally showing affection again.

“I love you,” Gerard mumbled, snaking his arms around Frank’s waist and leaning over on him more heavily. Frank put an arm around Gerard’s shoulders and held him in return. 

“I love you, too.” Gerard sighed heavily and stared at the floor. “So…are you feeling any better?”

“I guess,” Gerard mumbled. “How do I keep this from my dad if he asks?”

“Why not…be honest with him?” Frank suggested. “You hate lying.”

“I don’t want him to call me a whore,” Gerard moaned, covering his face with one of his hands. “And I don’t want him to threaten you—he acts like I’m his daughter now, so he has to be the ‘scary dad.’”

“I’m not scared of your dad, Gerard.”

“Well…I am.” Gerard sighed and shifted closer to Frank, letting his head slide onto Frank’s chest. 

“Why? If he doesn’t hurt you…” Frank still had that lingering suspicion that Gerard’s dad wasn’t as innocent as he sounded.

“He thinks things and I know it…and I hate it. I mean…” Gerard’s eyes dropped and Frank knew instantly that Gerard had gone right back to where he started. “I know I’m gross. He doesn’t need to have examples.”

“Gerard, you’re not gross,” Frank argued.

“Frank! I was raped! I’m _disgusting!_ ” Gerard screamed, actually raising his voice until it cracked and pulling away from Frank’s arms.

“No you’re not!” Frank shouted. “You’re not! Why do you think being taken advantage of makes you _gross!?_ If anything, your dad would feel _bad_ for you! You’re just afraid that if he finds out he’s going to make you face your problems instead of let you hide from them in your little self-conscious bubble!”

“That is not true!” Gerard spat, eyes tearing up again. Frank almost felt bad, but his emotions were already worn down. How much more was he honestly expected to take?

“Yeah it is,” Frank said, throwing his arms up. “You like being pathetic—you like having people apologize to you for _everything_ because the one time you really wanted an explanation and an apology, you got nothing.”

“You’re an ass,” Gerard sobbed, tears falling and voice drawn down with emotion. As soon as Gerard started crying, Frank remembered who he was dealing with. Gerard didn’t need his feelings hurt anymore.

“Sorry,” Frank said, closing his eyes tightly as he awaited the eruption. 

“Yeah right,” Gerard spat, getting up from the couch and going towards the stairs. “I’m going home.” Frank got up and followed Gerard up the stairs to his room.

“Gerard—I’m sorry,” Frank said.

“Fucker,” Gerard hissed, grabbing his clothes off of the floor and quickly stuffing them into the plastic bag he brought them in. 

“Please don’t be mad—I’m stupid. You know I’m stupid,” Frank pleaded, going up behind his boyfriend and touching his shoulder gently.

“And I know what you think of me,” Gerard sniffed. 

“No—Gerard, I really didn’t mean that—”

“Yes you did!” Gerard screamed. “You think I liked it! You think I wanted it to happen—”

“No!” Frank screamed. “No—God, Gerard, don’t twist it! It’s just—” Gerard kept trying to push past Frank, but Frank blocked his every attempt to leave the bedroom. “—you won’t let it go…”

“You try having the _only_ one you trust _drug_ you, _rape_ you, wait for you to wake up, _blame you_ , and then do it again! You try having that happen and then just ‘let it go.’” Frank didn’t say anything, just stared at the floor in silence because he had nothing to say. “So maybe I do have a complex, but that doesn’t give you the right to say things like that.”

“Well…at least it got you to stick up for yourself,” Frank said slowly, wondering if somehow he could still manage to cover himself. 

“What?” Gerard stammered. 

“Well, yeah,” Frank mumbled, glancing up from the floor. “It’s about time you showed…anger about it. Because…you shouldn’t be sad it happened, you should be pissed…because Alex hurt you and you didn’t get your revenge. And you should be mad instead of ashamed—because if someone’s house gets broken into, they don’t feel ruined or gross, they feel victimized and pissed off. I want you to be mad because it hurts me when you cry.”

Gerard seemed speechless for a moment. Frank felt like he was in limbo, because he could see the emotions swirling in Gerard’s eyes as he made up his mind. Was he still mad, or was he accepting Frank’s makeshift excuse?

“Yeah, but…you hurt my feelings.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m an asshole—you know that. I’m a freak who hides in lockers and watches you—”

“No more,” Gerard whimpered, twisting his bag of clothes in his hands and then letting it drop to the floor.

“Sorry,” Frank said, opening his arms for an embrace. Gerard hesitated, but gave in. Frank held him tight and leaned up to kiss his cheek. He needed to remember to never, _never_ ever, open his mouth again. “I love you, Baby—I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t really think…I should tell them, do you?”

“Tell your parents?” Frank asked. Gerard nodded. “Well…yeah, I think you should.”

“They’ll want me to press charges. I don’t want to even think about it again let alone tell a court about it.” Frank stared at him, feeling stuck. Gerard wasn’t going to tell, not ever. Not unless he had to. He was going to close the wound while it was still infected—leaving it to fester beneath closed skin. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard rolled over in the dark, unable to establish where he was or what he was doing there. It was cold. That was what he noticed first, and then there was some shadowy figure over top of him. Suddenly, the shadow began to attack, grabbing his arms and shoving him around on the bed.

Gerard wanted to scream, but it felt like his mouth was filling with water, so he could only choke and wheeze.

He looked around frantically, trying to see a shape in the shadows, but all he saw was his legs being spread open. 

_No!_ Gerard tried to scream. _No! No!_

But the shadow didn’t listen, it crawled over him and started making him hurt.

“Fucking tease,” seethed the shadow. Gerard wailed, the air that was like water weighing down his lungs. “Take it—look at me! Look at me!”

Every time Gerard screamed, it became harder to breathe. He didn’t want to look at the shadow, he wanted to get away from it. But the shadow had him pinned—it was weighing him down and making him hurt.

“Tell me it feels good!” The shadow screamed. Gerard didn’t want to. It didn’t feel good—he was being hurt. It hurt so much. “Say you love it, you little slut. Say it!” The pain intensified, making Gerard feel like he was being cut apart. “Say you want it!”

_I want it,_ Gerard sobbed, the water filling his mouth and drowning him. _Feels good,_ he cried.

“Say you love it, cocktease!”

_I love it,_ Gerard whimpered, his chest feeling heavy. 

“Tell me you want me to give you more.” Gerard shook his head, the pain too much as it was. He didn’t want more—he wanted it to stop. But his silence made the pain grow more intense—the shadow having no mercy. “Tell.Me.You.Want. _More!_ ” The shadow boomed, each word emphasized by a mind-splitting stab of pain.

_I want more!_ Gerard screamed. He felt so ashamed and weak. Too desperate to end the pain to defend himself or shield his pride. The pain didn’t lessen, even though he repeated every degrading thing the shadow told him to.

He said he liked it, that he wanted more, that it felt good, that he deserved it. He cried, drowned, and mimicked. He wanted it to stop—he just wanted it to stop. He wanted help—he was screaming, why didn’t anyone hear? Why didn’t anyone come and make the pain stop?

He felt so alone—so desperate and helpless. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard woke himself screaming, and burst into tears as soon as he realized it’d just been a dream. He didn’t know it was the relief or the memories that made him cry, but he knew that the bad feelings were all back inside of his chest.

He pulled his knees to his chest and burrowed himself down into his pillow. He tried to remember Frank, to think about how wonderful Frank had been to him instead of how awful Alex was. Gerard went so far as to force himself to relive the night he’d spent with Frank, just so he knew how good he had it.

As caught up as he was in the little details of his Saturday night, Gerard still went rigid when he heard footsteps on the stairs leading down to his room. A gasp got caught in his throat as he prayed to any god listening that it was Mikey and no one else coming downstairs—and maybe even a ghost instead of Mikey.

“Gerard?” Gerard guessed he could be relieved that it was his mom and not his dad, at least. “I got up to go the bathroom and I heard you scream—are you okay?” She sat down beside him on the bed and Gerard was thankful that he was facing the wall and his light was still off.

“Fine,” Gerard breathed, afraid she’d hear his tears in his voice. He was desperate to keep some of his pride. His mom started rubbing his shoulder and he knew immediately that he wasn’t going to get away so easily.

“Another nightmare?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Gerard answered. “Just a bad dream.”

“Talk to me about it,” she said. It wasn’t even an offer. It was like her fucking maternal instincts were in overdrive and it made her psychic or something. “You’ve been weird since you got home—you were weird when you left. What happened?”

“It was just a nightmare,” Gerard mumbled, ignoring the real question. 

“That made you cry?” Gerard sighed and pulled his blanket tighter to his face. It was difficult since his mom had most of his blanket trapped beneath her. “Talk to me—I don’t want to lose you like I did when you started middle school, and you’ve been acting like that again.” Gerard knew what she was talking about. 

“I’m fine,” Gerard said.

“Don’t lie to me—come on. Before your dad sees I’m gone and comes searching for me. What’s the matter?” Gerard shook his head and covered his face with his hands. This was not going to happen. He wasn’t going to have a night terror and let his mom bully him into talking about what she perceived to be a simple childhood trauma.

She knew someone had hurt him back then, but she didn’t know who or how. She thought he’d been having a sleep over with four other boys his age the night he’d stayed with Alex after the party. For all his mother knew, the other kids had bullied him and it was happening again.

“What’s going on between you and Frank?”

“Nothing,” Gerard said, growing wary. How the fuck did she know, and what the fuck did Mikey tell her while he was gone?

“Nothing?” His mom asked. “Don’t kid me—teenage boy, spends the entire weekend at his boyfriend’s without parental supervision?” His mom shook his shoulder playfully and Gerard groaned in displeasure.

“Mom, you’re as bad as dad was about my ‘girlfriends.’ Nothing happened.”

“Two teenage boys? Alone for a weekend? Don’t tell me nothing happened—did he hurt you?” Gerard tried to think of a way to talk his way out of it, but there was nothing. And his silence while deliberating sent his mother the wrong message. “Gerard? What did he do?”

“Nothing, Mom,” Gerard mumbled. “It’s not him.”

“Okay,” she said, sounding confused. “What did _you_ do?”

“Nothing!” Gerard snapped. 

“So what happened?” Gerard groaned.

“ _Something,_ ” he moaned irritably. “But it was nothing—so stop. No one got hurt…”

“Then why were you acting so weepy when you got home?”

“Because,” Gerard surrendered. Frank wanted him to talk about it, his mom was going to hound him until he answered, and his father would probably get involved and bully him into confessing anyway.

“First time?” His mom asked, a strange, _strange_ sympathetic tone. Gerard felt so humiliated.

“No,” he said, his voice cracking slightly against his will.

“Oh,” his mom said, petting his shoulder again soothingly. “Was he mean to you about it?—Frank?”

“No,” Gerard mumbled. “Frank’s fine…”

“I didn’t ask if he was _fine,_ I asked if he was mean to you.” Gerard stared at the wall beside his bed, invisible in the darkness.

“He got mad at me,” Gerard said quietly. “We fought…” 

“Why’d he get mad?”

“Because I’m pathetic,” Gerard said, sighing and nuzzling his pillow. 

“He called you pathetic?” His mother asked, getting angry. “Was this before or after—”

“After,” Gerard mumbled. “He said he was sorry.”

“He verbally abused you,” his mother snapped. “You can do better.”

“At least he didn’t set me on fire,” Gerard muttered. His mother was silent for a moment, but then erupted.

“Gerard, were you _dating_ the person who burnt you?” She snapped. Gerard shrugged. “Gerard! How could you hide that!?”

“I was raped,” Gerard said quickly, deciding on the spot that he’d rather talk about Alex than the night he’d been lit on fire.

“What?” Gerard didn’t repeat himself, but took the chance to pull his blankets entirely over his head when his mother got up to turn on the overhead light. “Gerard—what…what did you say?” She stammered. Gerard stayed silent. She sat down beside him on the bed and tried to pull his blankets away, but he wouldn’t let go. “When? When, Gerard?—When? Who?”

“My boyfriend,” Gerard said, trying to block the memories that started bubbling to the surface.

“ _Frank?_ ” His mother seethed. “Was it Frank? That little—”

“No…my first one.”

“The one who burnt you?” 

“No…”

“Who?” His mom pushed, rubbing his shoulder desperately. “Baby, talk—come on. Who hurt you? Tell me—please.”

“It won’t matter,” Gerard mumbled. “I’m not going to report it.”

“Gerard, why do you defend these people? You were…you were _raped?_ ”

“In middle school,” Gerard admitted. “By my boyfriend…he drugged me.”

“Are you okay?” his mother asked. “Why didn’t you say anything? We—we would’ve protected you…”

“From what?” Gerard said, playing with a patch of fuzz on his bed beneath the blanket. “He’d already done it. I never saw him again.” His mother stammered for several moments, trying to find a word or phrase that would help. 

“Is that why Frank yelled at you?—Called you pathetic?” Gerard shrugged. “He needs to know—you… _you_ need to know it’s not your fault.”

“I could’ve—”

“No,” his mother interrupted firmly. Gerard felt a bolt of pain go through his chest. 

“Mom, he was—”

“ _No._ It was not your fault—there was nothing you could do.”

“He was nineteen,” Gerard said, waiting for her sigh of repulsion or explosion of rage. 

“I don’t care! It was not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have been with him!” Gerard cried, throwing the blanket off from over his head. “He was too old for me—I should’ve known better! I knew what he wanted…” His mother was staring at him with straight up pity. Gerard hated it, because it was like Frank had said. Everyone pitied him and it was embarrassing. He wanted to be tough enough to stand on his own…

“Has Frank _ever_ hurt you?” His mother pushed. “Does he hurt you?” Gerard turned away from her and sighed. His romantic track record was awful—rapist, arsonist…what would his mother do if she knew Frank used to spy on him when he changed clothes for gym? “Gerard! Does.He. _Hurt._ You?”

“No,” Gerard argued.

“He just says mean things?”

“He’s young and stupid,” Gerard mumbled, staring at his blanket. “I say mean things, too.”

“He hasn’t hit you?” Gerard shook his head. “And he didn’t…force you?”

“No. He was nice.”

“Does he know?” His mom asked, petting his shoulder again. Gerard pulled away.

“Yeah. He’s…was the only one I told. I didn’t want him to leave and he was getting mad. I didn’t want to tell anyone.”

“Well…is he helping you cope? I don’t want him to force you, but does he _let you_ talk about it when you want to?” Gerard shrugged. “Will you…Gerard, do you want me to get you with a counselor who can help you? Someone you can talk to?” Again, Gerard just shrugged. Wouldn’t Alex be pleased to know that he’d fucked his boyfriend up so bad he had to have counseling years later? “Because…I want you to feel better, and I don’t…I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been through what you have, and it hurts. It hurts to see you this upset.”

Gerard shrugged again and stared at his bed. He didn’t so much want to relive his traumas with some strange ‘counselor,’ but just hearing that he was going to ‘get help’ would probably make Frank ecstatic.


	11. Recovery

Gerard snuggled with Frank on the couch in Frank’s living room. He’d been seeing a therapist for a little over two weeks—three days a week for an hour. He had to admit, it was beneficial. He wasn’t made to feel weak or like a test subject—he felt like Dr. Arnolds actually cared about him.

He had talked for a while about his feelings towards Frank with her, and discussed his hopes for the future in relationships. She helped explain feelings he already knew he had, but didn’t understand. Dr. Arnolds told him that if he didn’t stop reliving his tragedy, he’d never be able to fully be with anyone—not Frank, not _anyone._

Gerard knew she was right, but hearing someone say it with no bias and no anger made it easier to cope with. Slowly, she was teaching Gerard to let go like Frank wanted him to.

Finally, it started to feel like Alex really was in the past. He could accept a kiss without thinking there were strings attached. He could cuddle and not feel obligated to do more. Gerard felt so happy.

“I’m cold,” Gerard mumbled against Frank’s chest. His boyfriend sighed and held him tighter.

“Want me to go upstairs and get you a blanket?” Frank asked. Gerard shook his head and squeezed his arms around Frank’s torso, sighing happily.

“I’m sleepy,” Gerard added. Frank laughed softly and nuzzled the top of Gerard’s head.

“Want to go upstairs and go to bed?” Gerard shrugged, smiling into Frank’s shirt. “Well, if you’re sleepy and cold, we should go lay down.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, yawning and letting Frank force him to sit up. “We’ll still cuddle?” Gerard asked.

“Duh,” Frank said playfully, grabbing Gerard’s hand to help him up off of the couch. 

“And maybe…” Gerard felt his stomach tighten with anxiety, but he still forced out the rest of his sentence. “…Maybe more?” He saw Frank’s body stiffen and felt guilty. 

Who was he to ask for sex? Who was he to ask Frank to do something that was uncomfortable for him? Why would Frank want to sleep with him when they both knew it would be awkward and upsetting? Now Frank would feel obligated…Now, Gerard felt like the rapist.

“Yeah,” Frank said, turning around to look at Gerard as they walked up the stairs together. “If you want to.” Gerard stared at him for a moment and then lowered his head and shook it.

“No,” Gerard mumbled. He went to Frank’s bedroom with his head down and his shoulders hunched, feeling guilty and stupid. Feeling low…like a tease, and worthless.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Gerard, you do know that boys your age shouldn’t even be sexually active,” Dr. Arnolds said. Gerard turned his eyes away from her and stared at a crack in the wall. “You don’t need to feel pressured.”

“Frank wanted to before he knew what was wrong with me,” Gerard said. “Now that he knows, he’s different—and he feels bad for me. I just want to give him what he wants.”

“The fact that he doesn’t pressure you shows that he cares about you. You shouldn’t see it as a bad thing.”

“Frank…doesn’t want me anymore I don’t think…”

“Gerard, Frank is very young—try to see it through his eyes. He doesn’t have a lot of experience in relationships as it is, and now he’s dating you who has a lot of baggage. He loves you, but he doesn’t know how to help you. He doesn’t know whether he should let you push yourself or make you hold back.”

“What if he breaks up with me?” Gerard asked, swallowing hard and wringing his hands. “I don’t know if we can be together forever, but…I don’t think I can do it without him. If he leaves me…why would I date anyone else?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Dr. Arnolds asked. Gerard looked at her sadly and shrugged his shoulders. “Because you gave him your virginity?”

“I trusted him…I love him and I want to be with _him._ I picked _him._ ”

“And what about your last boyfriend? The one who assaulted you. You didn’t want him.”

“Not like that,” Gerard mumbled. “I liked the attention and he had so many friends. I felt like…if I dated him then I could get back on my feet. But I just made him angry.”

“Are you afraid that you’ll make Frank angry if you don’t sleep with him?” Gerard thought the question over and then shrugged.

“Frank won’t…light me on fire or beat me up.”

“But he can leave you?” Gerard nodded. 

“I really want Frank to stay with me—at least for a year or two. I want something serious.”

“Boys his age aren’t usually looking for serious relationships.”

“So what should I do?” Gerard asked.

“Focus on your friendship with Frank, Gerard. That way, if you two do go separate ways, you will at least have your friendship. Is friendship enough for you?”

“Well…yeah, but I want more.”

“Focus on the friendship—in _any_ relationship, you have to focus on the friendship first.”

“But what if I do that and Frank thinks I just want to be friends?” Gerard asked.

“You want to know if Frank wants out of the relationship, don’t you? To know for sure whether he wants to be with you or if he just feels obligated.”

“Yes,” Gerard whispered. 

“Then that’s the way to do it. If being only friends is better to you than a messy break-up with bad feelings, you have to figure out how Frank is feeling.” Gerard stared at the floor and felt his heart sink. He’d decided already that Frank was going to leave him. It was the same feelings he’d had for months. Why would Frank want to date him? Why would Frank want to date a used-up freak when he could have perfectly normal boyfriends?

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank stared at Gerard from the bed in Gerard’s room. Gerard was sitting at his desk, marking up a page in his sketchbook but not really drawing. He’d been distant the entire day at school, not even saying a full sentence to Frank during lunch.

“Do you want to talk about something?” Frank asked. He’d had a sinking feeling since Gerard had stayed the night at his house the weekend before. Gerard had been a little…reserved since he’d proposed sex and then changed his mind.

“Am I your friend?” Gerard asked while making several harsh marks across his page.

“You’re my _boyfriend,_ ” Frank answered. 

“But are we _friends?_ ” Gerard pressed, still staring at his paper. 

“Yeah,” Frank said. “We’re like…best friends. We tell each other everything, and we hang out all of the time—we trust each other…right?”

“I guess,” Gerard answered.

“You guess?” Frank nearly snapped. 

“Do you…just want to _be_ friends?”

“No, I don’t just want to be friends!” Frank called. “What’s your problem?”

“I was just asking!” Gerard cried, looking at Frank hurt and clutching his pen tighter. “My doctor said I needed to focus on our friendship so—”

“So we’re breaking up,” Frank snapped. Gerard’s face widened in shock and he finally set his pen down.

“No!—I mean…not if you don’t want to,” Gerard said. “I just don’t want you to feel trapped or…obligated to stay with me.”

“Gerard, if I wanted to dump you, I’d do it. I’m not some asshole leading you on.” It was hard not to get angry—Frank felt like he was getting pushed away when he’d done nothing but be supportive of Gerard and all of his bull-shit issues.

“I just…I’m sorry,” Gerard said, grabbing his pen again and setting back to work on his page of lines. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Frank said, sighing and crossing his legs in front of him on the bed. “Just…have a little confidence in yourself, please?”

“Okay,” Gerard said, visibly shutting down. They said nothing until it was time for Frank to leave, and then it was only a quick hug and an ‘I’ll see you at school tomorrow.’

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard was crying when he came into the lunchroom. Frank immediately stood up from his seat at the table, wanting to ambush his boyfriend, wrap his arms around him, and make him feel safe. But he couldn’t…he didn’t want their relationship out. He didn’t want Gerard to get picked on even more.

“What’s the matter?” Frank asked, putting his hand on Gerard’s shoulder when he reached the table. Gerard sank down, hands covering his face. Frank sat down quickly beside him and rubbed his shoulder. “What’s the matter, Gee?” Frank asked, looking around the room for anyone who may look smug. 

Gerard whimpered something into his hands and shook his head.

“What happened?” Mikey asked his brother.

Gerard mumbled something in a tear-wrecked voice—something that ended with “punched in the face.”

“Who?” Frank commanded, putting an arm around Gerard’s shoulders and holding him tight. “Who?” He pressed again. 

“I want to go home,” Gerard cried, lowering his hand from his face. The sight made Frank’s blood begin to boil. Gerard’s juicy lower lip was split open and bleeding, blood-vessels had burst in one of his eyes, and a massive bruise was forming on his left cheek.

“I’ll take you home,” Frank said, standing up. “Come on.” Gerard nodded and got to his feet.

“I can take him,” Mikey said, staring at Frank almost jealously. Gerard mumbled something that sounded like ‘I want to go with Frank,’ and Mikey groaned.

“You gonna be okay?” Ray asked Gerard, looking at him with concern. Gerard stared at him for a second and then nodded. 

“Yeah—I just…I want to go home.”

“I’ll take you, Sweetheart,” Frank said softly.

But not softly enough.

“ _Sweetheart?_ ” Someone boomed. Gerard stiffened and Frank twisted around. “So you really are a couple of _fags._ ” The same jock who had kicked Gerard in the balls months before in the locker room when Frank had still been watching him was hissing at them from the next table. He hadn’t spoken loud enough for the supervising teachers to overhear, but the students around were all watching.

“Please,” Gerard whispered, keeping his back to the jock. “Frank, let’s just go.”

“Did he hit you?” Frank asked Gerard quietly.

“No—it doesn’t matter, let’s go.”

“Did he?” Frank pushed.

“Yeah, but, Frankie—”

“Hang on,” Frank said, leaving Gerard in Mikey’s comforting care and storming over to the jock. If he punched him, he was facing a three day suspension according to the school’s code of conduct, but then he could stay home and nurture Gerard. 

“What?” The jock spat, smirking as Frank stomped over to him.

“You punch my boyfriend?” Frank snapped, owning up to the truth because he wasn’t going to lie and deny Gerard.

“So what?” The jock asked, standing up and staring down at Frank. “You tap that ass?” A few of the girls nearby giggled and the boys pulled faces of disgust. 

“Let me tell you something,” Frank hissed, locking gazes with the jock who hurt his love. Frank pointed at the jock with his right hand, that way he wouldn’t expect it when Frank pounded his face in with his left fist. “You will never talk about him that way again.”

“Oh really?” The jock said, looking over his shoulder at his friends and laughing. “How are you gonna stop me—” As soon as the jock turned around, Frank decked him in the mouth with his left fist. 

Frank was Jersey born—he was damn proud to see a small chip of white tooth fall from between the jock’s lips in a stream of blood. 

“Stay the fuck away from Gerard,” Frank hissed, narrowly avoiding the punch that the jock threw at him in response. He didn’t turn his back on the jock until the teachers reached their sides. Even though the teachers tried to grab him, Frank reached Gerard first and walked with him to the school’s front doors—not bothering to sign out.

“You’re going to be in so much trouble,” Gerard whimpered. 

“I don’t care,” Frank said. “He hurt you, I’ll hurt him. No one touches my boyfriend and gets away with it. You’re filing a report against him.”

“No, Frank,” Gerard moaned, wiping at his lips. 

“Yes,” Frank said. “You need to not be the victim—confront your attacker, for the first time.”

“Why? So his friends can come beat me? I don’t want raped again, Frank—one of them will take it to that, and I won’t go through it again.”

“I saw them beat you in the locker room before—how long has it been going on since I _quit_ watching?”

“Every day,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Quit taking it from them, Gerard,” Frank argued, adrenaline still pumping in his veins. “Press _charges!_ That guy _assaulted_ you.”

“No,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Why? Do you want to be a victim forever?”

“Leave me alone!” Gerard cried out before shoving Frank away. “Just stay away!” Frank watched Gerard walk several feet down the road before chasing after him. He hadn’t realized how much he was hurting his lover with his words. He knew better than to be rough with Gerard…

“Gerard!” Frank called, chasing him. “I’m so sorry! Please—I just want to keep you safe.” 

“I’m not a victim,” Gerard whimpered. “I just got hit, that’s all.”

“Please don’t let him get away with it. I can’t see you like this again— _I’ll_ go to prison for assaulting him.”

“Frank, I don’t need enemies. If I say anything—”

“No one’s going to hurt you again,” Frank said. “Telling on that asshole isn’t going to get you raped.”

“You don’t know that!” Gerard called. “I don’t care if they beat me—it’s nothing.”

“It could _progress,_ Gerard. Beating you in the locker room could really quickly turn into something worse.”

“No,” Gerard said, wrapping his arms around himself and sniffing. 

“Your therapist would say that same. Please, report that guy for hurting you.”

“I have no proof!” Gerard cried. “For all anyone knows, I could’ve tripped and fallen while changing shoes.”

“Gee…”

“Let it go. I’ll be fine. I’m almost done with school anyway.”

“At least tell him you’ll press charges if he presses charges on me—can you promise that?”

“Fine,” Gerard whispered. “I can’t get you un-suspended though.”

“I know,” Frank mumbled. “But now I can stay home and take care of you.” Gerard made a quiet sound and walked with Frank back to his home. “You’re not mad that…people found out about us, are you?”

“Not mad,” Gerard whispered. “Worried.”

“Worried?” Frank pressed.

“That’s more of a reason for them to assault me, Frank. Since I’m gay—that means I’ll like it, right?”

“Gerard, no one is going to touch you,” Frank said as Gerard unlocked the door to his home.

“You can’t promise that,” Gerard said quietly. Frank stayed quiet and followed Gerard inside. As soon as the door closed, Gerard loosened his tie and took of his uniform jacket, throwing it immediately onto the floor. Instead of going for his room, Gerard went towards the bathroom to wipe the blood off of his face. “Do you think I’m going to get in trouble with Dad for leaving school early?”

“If he yells at you for leaving school after getting punched in the face, I’ll punch _him_ in the face.”

“No you won’t!” Gerard snapped. “Leave my dad alone—if you piss him off, he’ll hurt me.”

“He’ll do what?” Frank asked, remembering all of the times Gerard refused to say his father was abusive.

“Well…” Gerard sighed and shook his head as he wetted a washcloth and dabbed at his bottom lip. “I know he’s not happy I’m gay…so he might start hitting.”

“When is the last time your dad hit you?” Frank asked, trying to sound conversational rather than accusatory. 

“Like…a year ago maybe,” Gerard said softly. 

“What did you do?” Gerard shrugged.

“I can’t remember. It wasn’t that hard.”

“When you were younger…did he hit you a lot?”

“I lied a lot,” Gerard answered. 

“So is that a yes?” Again, Gerard shrugged. 

“I deserved it. It wasn’t like he turned me into his punching bag. Doesn’t your mom hit you?”

“No,” Frank said. “I went to Catholic school—they did the hitting for her.”

“A slap isn’t like a punch—I just don’t want my dad angry with me.” Frank watched Gerard dab at his lip for a few more seconds before, reaching for the damp cloth and taking it from him. “What?” Gerard mumbled, looking at Frank nervously.

“I want to do that for you,” Frank said, wetting the cloth again and wiping at the gentle curve of Gerard’s lip. Gerard whimpered softly but let Frank take care of him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Frank whispered before leaning forward and kissing Gerard gently on his wounded lip.

“It’s okay,” Gerard mumbled. Then, all of a sudden, someone burst in the front door of the house.

“Gerard!” The person screamed—Gerard’s father. Gerard made a brief, terrified sound and dropped immediately to the ground, slamming his elbow into the sink of his way down and making him whimper. Frank tried to catch him, but only managed to get a hold of Gerard’s hand once he’d already reached the floor. “Why is your _two-hundred dollar_ school jacket on the _floor_ \--and why did I get a call at work saying you left school early!?”

“Let him yell,” Gerard whispered when Frank prepared to shout back at the man that Gerard had a perfectly good reason to leave school early, and that he should ask what that reason was before coming home screaming.

“Gerard, I know you’re home!”

“I’m in the bathroom!” Gerard called, sounding close to tears again as he slowly started getting to his feet. His father stormed towards the room and looked ready to shout when he saw Frank, and then closed his mouth when he saw Gerard’s bruised face.

“What happened?” His father asked.

“Like you care,” Frank hissed, putting himself between the two and pushing back against Gerard. “Where do you get off yelling at him like that?”

“Frank, let it go,” Gerard mumbled. “Go home.”

“No!” Frank argued. “You’re going to hit him.” Someone had to protect Gerard, and Frank was going to be the one. As long as he was there, Gerard’s father would focus more anger on the annoying boyfriend than his son.

“No I’m not,” his father said calmly. “Gerard—” Gerard’s father glared at Frank, showing him that he wasn’t to answer. “—who hurt you?” Gerard stared at him and then shrugged. “Yes, you do know who hit you.”

“It doesn’t matter…” Gerard mumbled, lifting a hand to cover his bruised cheek. 

“Gerard,” his father growled. “Stop letting people get away with hurting you!”

“It’s just a punch…” Gerard muttered.

“Your eye is completely _bloody._ You could have a concussion.”

“I’m okay.”

“I’m taking you to the doctor,” his father said. Frank almost said it was a good idea, but Gerard’s growl of protest scared him.

“No! Dad, I’m fine!”

“Then why is he here?” His father spat. 

“Because he…”

“Because I punched the guy who punched him—or one of them at least,” Frank said. “They got him in the locker room.”

“Frank!” Gerard squeaked. “Shut up!”

“You were there?”

“He _told_ me about it,” Frank said. “I wasn’t there. I’ve been trying to talk him into pressing charges or something, but he won’t.”

“Gerard,” his father said, almost desperate sounding. 

“Dad, it’s better this way. I’ll be done with school soon and it’ll all go away. If I fight them…they’ll do more.” His father stared at him and Frank set to rubbing Gerard’s shoulder soothingly. If it wasn’t one thing with Gerard, it was another.

( ) ( ) ( )

“An entire week!” Frank screamed, flopping down on Gerard’s bed and growling. “Suspension! For a whole _week,_ Gerard!”

“I’m sorry, Frank,” Gerard mumbled. “You shouldn’t have punched him.”

“ _He_ shouldn’t have punched _you!_ ”

“Well, he didn’t press charges so you should be happy—you broke his tooth.”

“I told him he’d never talk about you the same way again—and it’s true because now he’s going to have a partially fake tooth.” Gerard sighed and laid down beside Frank on the bed. 

“My therapist says—”

“Violence isn’t the answer?” Frank asked.

“Yes,” Gerard said. “But, no—Dr. Arnolds said if it happens again I have to at least threaten to press charges…or say I have a lawyer. Since it’s a rich school, she says the lawyer means something.”

“You should _actually_ press charges if they do it again,” Frank said. 

“But then they’ll…rape me…”

“Where do you keep getting that idea?” Frank exploded. “They’re bullies, not rapists.”

“Even Dr. Arnolds says that once a person is assaulted once, it’s more likely to happen a second time.”

“Well, it’s not going to be by them—it’s gonna be me.”

“Wh…what?” Gerard stammered.

“Nothing,” Frank mumbled. “I’m not going to do anything.”

“If you want to…do that…then just ask me—don’t think you have to…you know…force me.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Frank said, sighing in frustration. “I love you…”

“Frank?” Gerard asked, rolling onto his back and folding his arms behind his head.

“Yeah?” Frank asked, immediately cuddling up to his boyfriend.

“If…something did happen to me again, would you leave?”

“No, I wouldn’t leave,” Frank said. “Why would I? Because someone else touched you?”

“Maybe…or because I’d relapse?”

“I love you. I’d stay with you…whether you get sad again or not.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, sighing. “Do you still think we’ll last?”

“Yeah,” Frank said, laying his head on Gerard’s chest and sighing softly. “I do. So long as you don’t get tired of me and run off with someone taller.” Gerard didn’t laugh, just took a deep breath and turned his head to bury it against the pillow. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank’s almost bruising grip on Gerard’s hips kept slipping, no matter how many times he repositioned his hands. Gerard was sweating too much, making his skin slick and shiny. Frank moaned deeply, thrusting quicker and devouring Gerard’s precious whimpers that mixed into the fabrics of the pillow.

“Feel good?” Frank groaned, pulling out slowly and then ramming back in. Gerard made a noise similar to a scream, but pushed back against Frank firmly. It took him a long time to start liking it rough.

“Frankie—we’re gonna be late,” Gerard moaned. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Frank said, reaching around to grab Gerard’s cock and stroking it firmly. Gerard gasped, his body spasming on contact. “Did you want me to hurry?” He sped up his thrusts, letting himself become rougher than usual, but not so rough that Gerard couldn’t take it.

“No,” Gerard grunted before crying out. “They can wait—they can wait.” Frank slowed down and bent forward to press a kiss on Gerard’s back between his shoulder blades. Gerard sighed and dipped his back further down towards the mattress and moaned.

“That’s what I thought,” Frank taunted. 

“You’re…an ass,” Gerard breathed, turning his head to look back at Frank with eyes more lusty than offended.

“Is that anyway to talk to your boyfriend?” Frank asked, pulling out to the tip and then slamming back in. Gerard tensed in pain and shook his head.

“Ow, Frank—that hurt!” Gerard moaned in more discomfort than anything and Frank rolled his eyes. 

“You can take it,” he chided. 

“Really!” Gerard called. “That _hurt._ ”

“I’m sorry,” Frank said, making a point to move more gently and letting Gerard relax again.

“Better be,” Gerard hissed. Frank started pumping Gerard’s dick faster and smirked when he heard Gerard’s breaths come quicker and break off in little whimpers and cries. It was only a few more moments before Gerard came, his body going rigid and his muscles tightening around Frank’s cock. 

Frank came seconds later, the sound of Gerard’s last moan taking him to the edge. 

“Come on,” Gerard panted when Frank slowly pulled out. “We’re _really_ going to be late.”

“Do you care?” Frank asked.

“Not really,” Gerard said, sighing softly and slowly sitting up. “It’s just a housewarming party…we can be late.”

“Ray won’t be mad,” Frank said, sliding off of the bed and grabbing his socks up from the floor. They’d almost been dressed before Gerard had jumped him and made him get _undressed._ Living with Gerard was just becoming a hazard…but it beat their three year, ‘I’m in college I want to try new things’ break, so Frank wasn’t going to complain.

Their ‘I’m tired of being lonely and I miss you’ phone conversation at the start of Gerard’s senior year had been one of the most euphoric moments of Frank’s life. Now Gerard was out of school, Frank was enrolled in a crummy local college, and life was good.

“Are we taking your car or mine?” Frank asked, buttoning up his shirt and smiling as Gerard pretended that zipping his pants was the hardest task of his life.

“Yours—I don’t want to drive.”

“Okay,” Frank said, walking past Gerard to grab his wrist watch off the floor—making a point to grope Gerard’s crotch and squeeze a little _too_ hard as he passed him.

“Ow!” Gerard griped, shoving Frank’s hand away. “What’s with you? You’re being mean today…”

“I’m _playing,_ ” Frank argued.

“Well your play hurts,” Gerard grumbled.

“Get over it—you love it,” Frank teased, kissing Gerard on the cheek and going to the front door of their apartment, grabbing his keys off the rack.

“You’re a dick,” Gerard hissed, walking past Frank with pursed lips and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Will it make it up to you if I blow you in Ray and Christa’s brand new bathroom?” Frank asked, locking the door behind him and giving him a wicked grin. Gerard’s eyes widened like he was innocent and didn’t understand such concepts.

“Will you really?” Gerard asked, an innocent tone to match his face.

“Sure, Babe,” Frank said, as if offering to do a small favor comparable to dishes or laundry.

“Awesome,” Gerard breathed as he meandered down the hall. Frank did feel bad when he saw the distinctive limp in Gerard’s walk. Gerard could take a lot without limping, but that one harsh thrust seemed to have done him in. Frank felt bad…

( ) ( ) ( )

“Oh, I’m so happy you guys could make it,” Christa said, embracing Gerard gently and completely ignoring Frank. 

“Did you get the—the thing we sent you in the mail yet?” Gerard asked her. “Sorry we couldn’t bring it ourselves—there was too much of a chance of Frank stealing it.”

“I wouldn’t doubt that,” Christa said, giving Frank a strange smirk. “Yeah, we got it yesterday—you guys are so sweet.”

“So where’s Ray?” Frank asked, hating to be ignored.

“He’s out back, with…your brother.” She turned her attention back to Gerard, making Frank roll his eyes. Since he’d come out of his shell, _everybody_ loved Gerard. Forget about Frank who’d single-handedly _pried_ Gerard out of said shell—it was all Gerard, all the time.

“Mikey’s here already?” Gerard asked, smiling wide.

“He brought a girl,” Christa said in a funny tone.

“Aw—Frank, Mikey has a new girlfriend!”

“And he didn’t tell you,” Frank said, mocking Gerard’s excitement.

“He wanted it to be a surprise…” Gerard said, following Christa into the new house. “Your house is so pretty,” Gerard said, smiling at everything and making Frank angry. He didn’t so much hate it when Gerard was cheerful, it just made him mad when Gerard was happy with anything other than him…

“Aw, you’re so sweet—we really love it. I’m _hoping_ we can start a family here.”

“Oh no, little Toros,” Frank mumbled. Everyone ignored him. 

They went through the spotless house into the nicely kept backyard where a small group of people were loitering with cups and plates in hand. 

“Oh, and we made bought some veggie burgers just for you, Frank,” Christa said, eyeing Frank almost irritably. 

“Why does she hate me?” Frank asked Gerard the moment she walked away to reach her fiancé’s side—Ray Toro, grilling burgers in his own backyard. Who would’ve imagined that?

“Because you told her…her boobs were small?” Gerard suggested.

“I never said that!” Frank exclaimed. “Who told her I said that?”

“No one,” Gerard said, shrugging. “I don’t why she hates you—she just does.”

“Whatever,” Frank sighed, scanning the yard for Mikey. He spotted him by the fence, talking to some guy who was nodding at every single word that came out of Mikey’s mouth. There was no girl at Mikey’s side, but Frank spotted a lone-looking woman by the wastebasket throwing a cup away.

“Let’s go talk to Mikey!” Gerard erupted, grabbing Frank’s hand and pulling him over to his brother. The girl Frank assumed was with Mikey eyed them as they burst past her, apparently not used to seeing two guys holding hands. “Mikey!” Gerard exclaimed as soon as he reached his brother.

“Gerard,” Mikey replied, completely unenthused. 

“A little birdie told me you came with someone,” Gerard started. Mikey finally excused himself from his previous conversation with the nodding man and looked Gerard blankly in the face. “Who?” The girl Frank suspected reached Mikey’s side and introduced herself to Gerard who released Frank’s hand in order to shake hers.

The three of them talked for a while, making Frank feel lonely and out of place. It wasn’t that Mikey hated him, but they’d never really gotten along. The only friend Frank really had in settings like this was Ray. 

So while Gerard learned everything he could about his brother’s new girlfriend, Frank snuck over to the grill and made small talk with his friend while Christa was away.

“Hey, Ray,” Frank sighed.

“Sup?” Ray said, flipping a burger and smiling. 

“Nice house.”

“Yeah, I know right?” Ray said. “You and Gerard still in the apartment?”

“Yeah,” Frank answered.

“How’s that working?”

“Fine,” Frank answered. They continued making small talk until Gerard crept over to them like a dog that had been kicked.

“I don’t think she likes me,” Gerard mumbled.

“Oh no,” Frank sighed. “Someone doesn’t love Gerard? It’s the apocalypse.” Gerard looked at him sadly and Frank sighed.

“Yeah, she’s grumpy,” Ray mumbled. “Burger?—This one’s meat-free.”

“Sounds good,” Frank said, grabbing a bun and taking the burger off Ray’s spatula. 

Gerard continued his self-conscious rambling until Ray had finished a burger for him and then still kept going even after he’d finished eating it. Ray hummed and nodded and threw in one or two pieces of advice before making a couple burgers for himself and then letting the grill go cold.

“What if she hates gay people?” Gerard mumbled.

“It doesn’t matter,” Frank growled. “He brought her to _one_ party, they’re not getting married.” Gerard whimpered and lowered his head. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard never did get the blow job in Ray’s new bathroom like Frank promised, but he didn’t say a word about it when they got back to their own rundown and shoddy apartment.

“Frankie, are you mad at me?” Gerard asked as he took off his button-down shirt. Frank sighed deeply but otherwise didn’t respond. “I’m sorry that I…got so excited about Mikey’s new girlfriend?” He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but he was more than willing to apologize.

Frank was the most important person in his life. He’d apologize for being born if it would make Frank happy. 

“It’s not that,” Frank sighed.

Gerard quietly watched Frank change back into his ‘around the house’ clothes and then lowered his head.

“Was it something I said?” Gerard pressed. He knew if he pushed too hard, Frank would snap at him, but he was willing to do anything to make Frank happy with him again.

“No,” Frank sighed.

Gerard sank down onto the bed and whimpered, at a loss for what else to do. He felt a little helpless. Whenever they fought—which wasn’t too often—it always ended bad. Even in high school…even when they got back together Gerard’s senior year of college…even in the years after.

One night Frank had even thrown Gerard out…

Gerard never did tell Frank what happened in the two days that he was “missing” afterwards. Never told Frank why his face was bruised or his clothes torn. Didn’t explain the beating he got in the subway when trying to catch a train to Mikey’s side of the city.

Frank didn’t need to know—Gerard didn’t want Frank to think he’d let it happen on purpose just to get attention or sympathy. So he kept it a secret and let their relationship fall back into place.

Frank didn’t want to be Gerard’s shoulder to cry on anymore. He wanted Gerard to stand on his own two feet, without support or crutches. For him, Gerard was willing to pretend to be strong.

“Do you…not want me to…go to Ray and Christa’s anymore?”

“No!” Frank spat. Finally exploding. “No, that’s not why I’m mad!”

“Okay,” Gerard said, shrinking away and laying back on the bed.

“God—why do you always act like this? Can’t you just be… _normal_ for once?”

“I’m sorry!” Gerard called, not even sure what Frank meant.

“I don’t get what everyone likes about you,” Frank said. Gerard felt his heart sink and a stab of self-consciousness shot through his heart. “You’re just…” Frank looked back at him and then stopped speaking. Gerard stared at him for a moment and then looked away, curling up on the bed and nuzzling his pillow. “Just…Just forget I said anything—it doesn’t matter.”

Gerard felt like his heart was bleeding, but didn’t say anything. He just stared at the closed window and sniffed back tears. It was hard to hear his boyfriend tell him that he didn’t see anything likable about him. It made Gerard want to shrivel up and die.

Because it didn’t matter if Christa liked him, or if Ray liked him, or even if Mikey’s new girlfriend liked him—all that mattered was that Frank liked him…and it sounded like he didn’t anymore.

Frank crawled onto the bed beside him and Gerard closed his eyes. He wanted to pretend that he was asleep, but he couldn’t keep still. It was taking too much energy to keep from crying.

“You know…I never gave you that blowjob…”

“I don’t want it,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Oh?” Frank said, trying to be flirtatious even though he’d just crushed Gerard’s spirit.

“No…I don’t want it. I’m not…I’m not in the mood,” Gerard sighed, sniffing and blinking back tears quickly. He couldn’t cry around Frank, not anymore. Frank wouldn’t put up with it after they’d taken their break.

“Why are you crying?” Frank asked, putting a hand on Gerard’s shoulder and trying to get him to lay on his back. Gerard pulled away and closed his eyes tight.

“I’m not crying,” Gerard spat. 

“Yes you are,” Frank said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings…don’t cry.”

“I’m not fucking crying!” Gerard screamed. “Just leave me alone!”

“Why are you mad?” Frank asked, like he didn’t know.

“You told me you didn’t like me!” Gerard cried out, shoving Frank’s hands away from him and scooting to the edge of the bed.

“No—Gee, that’s not what I said.”

“Yes it is!” Gerard cried, pulling the blankets up to his mouth and biting back a sob. He didn’t feel safe to cry around Frank anymore, and all he wanted was to hide in the sheets and never come out again. 

“I didn’t mean it, Babe,” Frank murmured. “I love you—I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You said you don’t know why people like me!” Gerard called out. “Obviously there’s something wrong about me—obviously you hate me!”

“No!” Frank called. “No—Gerard, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just jealous—you know? Because everyone likes you more…”

“Except you,” Gerard mumbled. “I don’t care if anyone likes me except you…I _love_ you.”

“I love you, too—please, let’s not fight.”

“Fine,” Gerard mumbled, still feeling the stab wound in his chest. He didn’t know why Frank wanted to stay with him when he hated him so much, but he couldn’t complain. He needed the companionship and Frank was the only one who put up with his emotional bullshit and baggage. 

“Are you okay?”

“Do you care?” Gerard snapped.

“Yes I care, you brat,” Frank spat. Gerard said nothing, just let Frank settle into the bed beside him and laid absolutely, dead body still. “Can I make it up to you?”

“Not tonight,” Gerard mumbled. “I’m tired.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank mumbled, cuddling closer.

“Why do you not like me?” Gerard whispered.

“I like you,” Frank said. “I _love_ you. I didn’t mean what I said…I told you, I was just jealous.”

“It hurt my feelings…”

“I know,” Frank mumbled. “I didn’t mean to…I love you.”

“I know,” Gerard muttered. Gerard shifted so that Frank could get an arm around him and sighed. He felt so safe in Frank’s arms, even if Frank hurt him too. He pressed back against Frank’s body and closed his eyes. Safe and warm…so safe and warm. “I love you, too,” Gerard whispered. 

Frank hummed happily and Gerard pushed his hips backwards into Frank’s. Frank made a noise of pleasure and Gerard sighed softly. 

Gerard knew if he twisted his hips one more time, Frank would take it as an invite. He didn’t really want to fuck, but…

“I knew you’d come around,” Frank said, rolling Gerard onto his back and kissing him deeply.

“I want my blowjob,” Gerard said quietly, staring at the ceiling as Frank started sucking and biting at his neck.

“Anything you want,” Frank said, pushing away the blankets and kissing down Gerard’s chest.

“A slow one,” Gerard said. “No cheating.”

“A _slow_ one?” Frank said, looking up from Gerard’s chest and smirking. “It’ll be the best one of your life—you’re gonna see stars baby.” Gerard panted softly and then held his breath as Frank pulled the rest of the blankets away from his body. Frank pulled Gerard’s boxers down slowly and made a show of lowering his mouth.

Gerard stared at him as he slowly took his length into his mouth. He could’ve screamed it felt so good. It always felt good with Frank.

“Slow enough?” Frank said before dragging his tongue torturously slow from base to tip. He swirled his tongue around the tip and then took the full length once again. Gerard moaned and disappeared into the sensation. “What if I…” Frank let Gerard drop from his mouth in order to run the tip over his bottom lip. “…were take a bite?” Frank pretended to close his teeth around the head and Gerard whimpered.

“Don’t,” he whined. “That’d hurt!” Frank pulled back and giggled, fisting the base of Gerard’s cock slowly.

“A little pain could help you hold off—make it even slower.”

“I don’t want pain!” Gerard argued frantically, knowing that if he gave permission, Frank would hurt him.

“Okay,” Frank said soothingly before wrapping his lips around the head and sucking gently, tonguing at the slit and making Gerard writhe. Frank kept toying with him and Gerard was arching his back from the mattress. He loved being like this—he used to think he’d never be able to look like the people in the movies and on television on their censored, romantic bliss.

Sex used to terrify him, now he actually had the ability to ask for it and say what he wanted. And it was all thanks to Frankie… He was so thankful to have Frank.

“More,” Gerard begged. “More, more—Frankie.” Frank sucked gently and hummed, making Gerard gasp in pleasure. 

Frank kept going, shamelessly pleasing him without getting anything in return. Gerard felt blessed to have someone in his life who loved him so much. He’d do anything to keep Frank around—anything at all.

“I love you, Frankie,” Gerard called as he came, his fingers entwined in Frank’s thick hair. It was hard to concentrate when his entire body wanted nothing more than to immerse itself in the throes of pleasure, but he had to keep Frank feeling appreciated and wanted.

And maybe one day, he wouldn’t have the looming feeling that Frank was about to leave him behind. 

“I love you, too,” Frank said, coming up for a kiss that Gerard was more than happy to give, even if they’d fought minutes before. “So no more being grumpy.” Gerard nodded and laid on the bed completely spent. He briefly entertained the idea of returning the favor and giving Frank some attention, but quickly found himself too tired. “Let’s get some sleep. We both have work in the morning.”

“I’ll stay home if you do,” Gerard grumbled, rolling over when Frank laid down beside him so he could place his head on Frank’s chest.

“I can’t,” Frank mumbled. “But I’ll see you after work…”

“Wake me up before you leave,” Gerard murmured. Frank chuckled and nuzzled Gerard’s hair.

“I will.” Gerard emitted a quiet coo and snuggled closer. He couldn’t ever stay angry with Frank, and he doubted that Frank could ever stay angry with him—not when he knew how to play Frank’s emotions. 

If they fought and he got really mad, Frank would just get angrier. If they fought and he got upset, Frank would slowly start to feel bad. Sex fixed everything, and talking only made things worse. Frank was easily distracted and Gerard had mastered the ability to let things go.

He’d already hit the ground once—years ago with his first boyfriend—now, no matter how bad Frank may hurt him, nothing could devastate him more than what he’d already conquered. If he could overcome being made powerless and left damaged, if he could take the ache out being lit on fire, what was a little argument between lovers? 

_Nothing_ Frank could ever do or say could lose him Gerard’s love. Not one single thing.


End file.
